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sayoneee · 9 months ago

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☆ BACK TO THE OLD HOUSE

percy jackson is a nuisance. a nuisance you have always been fond of, some way, somehow. (5.6k)

contains: percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite! reader. post tlo (spoilers). kind of melancholy but it gets better (kind of). book percy.

kashaf’s note: guess whos alive!

TO QUESTION, to ponder, to seek out the gods is sacrilegious. the gods preferred their divinity to be kept strictly within the confines of worship — whether by completing their ‘menial’ tasks or by committing sacrifices, they, in their infinite wisdom, are not allowed to be objected to.

“so, my mom’s a god? of love?”

you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose, and mentally counted to three. opening your eyes, you make eye contact with the newest addition to camp, and your newest responsibility. bruised and scuffed, the poor kid blinks back at you confusedly as you mull your options. “yes, and no,” you decide.

“our mom’s a goddess, and love is just the most common of her jurisdictions.”

the new camper looks around the cabin, taking it in, you follow their gaze, lingering on the painted swans on the wall behind you, and bouncing to the pearls adorning the vanity, littered with various seashell trays holding gold jewelry (the first time you had entered these very walls, your throat had tightened at the pure ostentatiousness of it all).

they glance back at you, confused. you sighed again, “yes, our mom is the goddess of love.”

“oh.”

the candles residing in conches flicker as if waiting to pass judgment, and silence blankets you and the new camper once more (this is potentially your fiftieth time attempting to explain the same concept, yet you’re no better at it than when you first started — shaking and solemn).

needless to say, it’s more than just difficult to explain this tacit rule to new campers — after whatever tragic event transpired for them to realize that the greek gods of myth and legend indeed exist, they simply don’t have the mental capacity to learn the unspoken rules of the whole being a demigod thing.

you could be warmer, somehow, you suppose, with your mother being the goddess of love and all — in all honesty, you’re still not sure how you became the aphrodite cabin counselor, over selina (the entirety of camp half-blood’s favorite daughter of aphrodite) but the counselorship would have ended up in your hands anyway, after everything (the sight of her once-beautiful face as she coughed up blood in clarisse’s lap swims across your memories).

you pinched the bridge of your nose again, sighing as the candles snuffed out all at once of their own accord (judgment has been passed), “take the empty bed in the corner, we get up at like the ass crack of dawn so you might wanna catch up on your sleep.”

you watched the kid sit on the bed (looking every bit out of place as you did when you first arrived amidst the sheer indulgence the cabin is), and you can’t help but feel a pang in your chest as the child (the entire camp is full of children, but the vast majority of you have never gotten the chance to be the children that you are) stared wide-eyed at posters of movie stars, like tristan mclean, adorning the walls.

with one last glance and forlorn smile at the kid, you walked out of your cabin, your expression hardening at the sight of other campers. the walk to the arena is a short yet bleak one, in the silence you can hear drew’s screaming ringing in your ear (drew is preferable to hearing your other half-siblings, ethan, or even luke; drew is alive).

in the middle of the sword-fighting lesson being taught, you slipped into the arena, undetected for the most part except for the pair of sea-green eyes trained on your figure as you came and stood next to him, clearly hanging back.

“this is usually your shit, jackson,” you say, ignoring how pitiful your racing heart is, and watching clarisse at the helm, steam blowing out of her ears as new campers fell over themselves trying to parry and block with wooden swords.

percy turns to look at you, and from the corner of your eye, you can sense the storm brewing across his face. “maybe i’m not the attention whore you think i am,” he snorts, and there is a small trace of bile in his voice, but you don’t focus on that.

instead, your face burns at the memory of your last argument after you dove in front of ethan’s knife (you still wince when you remember the way his visible eye widened when he realized it was you who caught the blow), and percy’s bitterness as will patched you up, what the fuck is wrong with you, you could’ve gotten yourself killed.

and your weak but indignant reply, i literally saved your life, asshole. are you that much of an attention-whore that you need to be the one on their deathbed right now?

“i’d say you kind of are,” you say, turning to meet his gaze (for a brief, stupid, second you wonder if somehow he was a son of zeus because of how the air suddenly became charged with electricity), arms folding across your chest. “the whole making the gods pay child support is a bit attention-whore-esque.”

percy laughed, a sound you and the other campers haven’t heard in a while (it’s different from before but it is still a sound that in your weaker moments, you admit to craving to hear). “someone had to do it,” he says, sobering up immediately.

“luke tried,” you whispered (the name is still taboo around camp), shivering as you felt percy stiffen beside you. a beat passes and the resulting silence is suffocating.

percy offers you a sad, tight smile before walking out of the arena. you watch him go with a strange pain in your chest and a longing for the before, the laughter leaping across the sun-drenched strawberry fields, the joking i told you so’s during meals, and the softness of the campfire sing-a-longs.

it’s hard not to blame the gods, for that is blasphemy, but on most nights, you find yourself uttering your mother’s name with a tangible acidity, and you find that you’re not alone in this sentiment. the once-reverent echoes of aphrodite, promise me true love, promise me victory, promise me beauty, have now faded to lifeless whispers — formalities instead of prayers.

even your own prayers are different now, you pray for the sea — if your mother is allowed to be ambiguous with her gifts (curses) then she must expect the same ambiguity in your prayers in return. when you’re done half-heartedly muttering your prayers and sacrificing your food, your gaze meets a familiar pair of sea-green eyes across the campfire, glowing like a beacon in the dark.

standing up, you find drew, looking every bit as perfect as ever. you lean down to whisper, “lights out at eleven, i’ll be back.”

drew nods, squeezing your hand before she begins herding the rest of your half-siblings back to your cabin, solemn and toneless (an empty shell compared to the once vibrant and snarky drew from before).

the walk to the beach is silent, although you know that you’re being followed — you didn’t survive the war being complacent. when you finally do arrive, the mysterious figure reveals himself in the moonlight (again, you’d be a fool to not recognize the son of poseidon’s careful footsteps).

percy looks every bit of a character straight out of a tragic romance novel that your mother probably inspired, and again your heart squeezes painfully at the sight of him — under the scars and the jaded attitude, he is still the same percy jackson with stars in his eyes when he first introduced you to his mother.

“why do the naiads call you that?” percy asks abruptly, tilting his head to the side as if studying you as he approaches.

barely audible accusations of apatu’ria bubble at the surface of the lake like seafoam; the whispers have followed you since you arrived at camp, and you have never known why.

“call me what?” you ask, feigning ignorance as iterations of deceitful replay across your mind.

percy blinks, confused, “isn’t your mother related to the sea somehow? don’t you know they call you apatu’ria?”

you fiddle with the gold bracelet on your wrist (a gift from selina), percy’s gaze follows the movement as you hesitate. “well, yeah, like i know what it means but i don’t know why they call me that.”

percy shrugged, shoving his hands into the pocket of his jeans. “they call me ‘prosklystios’ a lot,” he said (in the way that he knows you, better than you know yourself).

“so what, we’re just reduced to epithets of our parents? what an honor,” you mumbled sarcastically, staring out at the lake, watching its surface ripple as the accusations grew more fervent. you paid it no mind however, the burden of being a daughter of aphrodite had already claimed its weight on your shoulders.

“careful,” percy sighed, his gaze focusing on you instead of the water, “might’ve just won a war but that won’t stop either of us from being smited if big guy in the sky thinks we’re being impertinent.”

distant thunder rumbled overhead as if proving his point.

“speak for yourself, pretty boy,” you say, eyes looking toward the firmament littered with stars, incognizant of your admission, “if i got the gods to basically pay child support without being sent to tartarus, i would do whatever the fuck i wanted.”

percy being percy, of course, did not register that last bit of your sentence, a shit-eating grin forming across his face, a slight red hue tinging his cheeks, “you think i’m pretty.”

you turn to look at him, ignoring how your heart hammers at the way he’s smiling down at you, you roll your eyes. “percy,” you say slowly. “my mom is the goddess of love, everyone’s gorgeous in her eyes.”

“yeah, but not everyone’s gorgeous in your eyes.”

gods, he was so aggravating but the way his eyes twinkled and the genuine elation on his face almost made you admit defeat.

you crossed your arms over your chest, narrowing your eyes at him, “this is why i never compliment you, you always let it go to your head.”

“aw, c’mon, you love me for it though,” percy says, still grinning widely, his unruly black hair falling into place perfectly.

“you’re an actual attention-whore,” you say, spinning around on your heels and trekking across the sand, leaving percy alone to stare out at the water. you walk back to camp, ignoring percy’s calls of wait punctuated by his laughter as he jogs up behind you.

“i hope mr. d catches you out past curfew and the harpies eat you,” you say deadpan, once percy has caught up to you.

“you’d miss me too much and would come to be my hero, again,” percy smirks at you, following along as you head toward aphrodite cabin (you’re secretly very glad for his presence, you hate walking around camp when it’s this deserted — the memories that you tried so desperately to bury try to claw their way to the surface).

“just because i caught a knife for you, once, does not mean that i’ll ever do it again,” you say, folding your arms across your chest as you stand outside the door of your cabin. “getting stabbed is not a ten out of ten experience.”

percy softens, his impish grin still there, but the intensity of his gaze is enough to make you melt, “good, can’t have you dying on me.”

you snorted, “even if i did die, i’d tell nico to raise my ghost so i could haunt you forever.”

percy’s still smiling, his eyes are still soft, and he’s so close to you right now. “go out with me,” he says, suddenly, earnestly.

blood rushes to your ears. “what?” you blinked, staring at him as if he’d grown another head.

percy shrugged, leaning forward to press a feather-light kiss to the crown of your head. you barely registered the action in your mind, trying to regain your ability to form coherent sentences as you watched him. percy looked away from your questioning gaze. “better go before the harpies eat me,” he said before jogging in the direction of his cabin.

he leaves you standing in front of your cabin door, frozen in shock for another five minutes, before you shake it off, and head inside, convincing yourself that you had imagined the entire encounter. the familiar scent of jasmine envelops you as you linger in the doorway. drew is still awake on her bed, her back pressed against the wall and her head in her arms. she doesn’t bother to look up at your entry until you’re sat next to her, curling an arm around her bony shoulders and pulling her into an embrace.

the two of you sit in silence as drew attempts to calm her heartbeats to sync with yours, her head resting on your shoulder as you rub soothing circles into the planes of her shoulder. you fall asleep in a tangled mess of limbs, a desperate attempt to close the gaping hole selina left in her wake. this is sisterhood, you think when you wake up and drew’s head weighs like lead on your shoulder.

the bright morning does little to assuage your burdens — you know it’s going to be a long day as soon as you hear campers giggling. rule number one of being a camp counselor: no matter how benign, giggling is the number one sign of trouble.

you took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before turning to the younger half of your half-siblings currently in the process of attempting arts and crafts. “what the fuck do you guys keep giggling about?”

your half-siblings only giggle harder.

after what seemed like eons, the new camper finally comes up to you — a kid no older than eight, who motions for you to bend down before they begin stage-whispering in your ear, “is percy jackson your boyfriend?”

you immediately feel scandalized, jerking away like you’ve been burned, “no, who said that?”

(when you’re being lulled to sleep by the sound of drew’s imperceptible snoring in your ear, your subconscious spends its time lingering, dwelling on could’ve been’s, and should’ve been’s, the obsession as stubborn as when you refused to believe that percy had actually died on mount st helens.)

the kid continues to smile ‘innocently’, “everyone says that you guys hold hands at campfires.”

sudden flashes of percy’s unyielding grip on your hand and his broad smile, as he forced you into a sing-a-long with him, rise to the forefront of your mind, but that was before — when annabeth still had a steely look in her eyes, when travis and connor’s antics still garnered laughs from everyone (and a rare amused glance from mr. d). now (the after), there is no such jocularity, and percy is kept at arm’s length, reduced to offering you sad smiles across the campfire.

“we do not hold hands at campfires,” you say, struggling to keep the disdain out of your voice.

“but there’s a ‘we’,” the kid says, scrutinizing you up and down.

you have to mentally count to three so that you don’t end up arguing with a literal child (it’s not a great way to prove that your sanctity is still intact). “there’s no we.”

the kid shrugs in an if you say so gesture, giving you one last weirdly knowing look before turning back to their arts and crafts. a weighty silence settles, punctuated only by the sounds of scissors and rustling papers.

stares and loud whispers follow you around camp, more so than usual for an aphrodite kid — clarisse finds you in the midst of it all, lost in thought when her cabin is supposed to be pulverizing apollo cabin at volleyball, a sharp glint in her eye.

“you’d tell if me you were dating prissy, right?” she says, her hand faintly closing around your elbow, pulling you out of your reverie.

“what are you talking about?” you say, eyebrows raising in shock. this wasn’t your first rodeo — just before the war this summer, camp gossip had credited you to be going out with connor stoll, but this was different. clarisse was the fifth person today who had asked you if you were dating percy.

“so you are dating him?” clarisse looks offended, or well, as offended as clarisse can be, “and you didn’t tell me.”

you can feel eyes on you, watching your every move as other campers subtly pause their activities to listen in.

“clarisse,” you say slowly, reaching out to hold her forearms and looking her in the eye, “i’m not dating percy.” when she opens her mouth to interrupt, you add, “and i would definitely tell you if i was.”

clarisse exhales, shooting you a disbelieving look, but mercifully leaving you alone with a quiet, “okay.”

you know what she’s thinking, so you offer her a taut smile, patting her on her shoulder as you brush past her. you headed toward the lake, with a feeling that you’d find the answers you were searching for.

the lake is empty except for one solitary figure on the sand, facing the horizon with his hands in his pockets. you hang back for a minute or two, taking in the sight of percy with his eyes closed, and the peaceful look on his face.

a grin settled across his face as he addressed you, his eyes still closed, “i know you think i’m pretty, you don’t have to stare to prove it.”

you ignored his words, and he opened his eyes to watch you angrily march across the sand to stand face to face with him.

“are you the reason why everyone thinks we’re seeing each other?”

“yeah, why?”

to say that you’re taken aback is an understatement — you had anticipated some more denial but this was unexpected. and sudden.

you jab a finger at his chest, “everyone’s getting the wrong idea, so you need to stop whatever it is you’re doing like right now.”

“but they could have the right idea,” percy says, looking amused.

your heart scrapes painfully against your chest, “what the fuck are you talking about?”

“we could be dating, for real,” percy says, excruciatingly slow, elongating each word.

the earth stops spinning on its axis for a minute, and time seems to freeze — for a split second you worry kronos has risen again before you calm your racing heartbeat and exhale slowly.

“i need you to be so for real right now,” you say, your eyebrows furrowing.

“i’m being so deadass right now.”

“no, you’re not,” you say, turning and walking away. your heart squeezes pitifully in your chest, as you call out, “find me when you stop joking,” before leaving him alone on the shore.

when percy approaches you again, you think he’s finally come back to his senses, though a weaker, more primitive urge inside you hopes that he hasn’t (it’s for the better, you try and fail to convince yourself).

he interrupts your conversation with drew (though the two of you weren’t doing much talking), smiling charmingly at her before asking if he could steal you away for a minute during breakfast. drew shot you a concerned look, waiting for your reassuring smile before assenting.

“you’ve come to your senses?” you ask after percy leads you away from the mess hall.

“i’ve always had my senses, thank you very much,” percy grins.

you roll your eyes, trying not to smile, “oh yeah, i could totally tell when you played rock, paper, scissors with a hundred-handed one last summer.”

“hey,” percy says, throwing his hands up in the air defensively, “i won that one.”

“on a gamble,” you countered, smiling (you missed this, missed him, and the feeling that everything will be alright enduring).

“not the point.”

“then what is?”

“go out with me,” he repeats, sudden, and earnest.

your heart stuttered pitifully. “not this again,” you sighed.

“why not?”

“why?”

“you know why,” percy tries to make eye contact with you. still, you avoid his gaze, watching the other campers heading into the mess hall give the two of you weird looks.

“no, i don’t,” you say firmly, before walking away, ignoring his protests, leaving behind a group of onlookers that you could care less about, and percy, who was staring at the spot you had just been standing in.

you returned to your cabin, to the familiar jasmine scent and pearl adornments, and promptly collapsed on your bed. more than anything, you just wanted your mother. you wanted your mother to smooth out your hair as you cried, offer you advice, and get rid of the stupid curse.

the door opens quietly and you immediately sit up, dabbing at your face and hoping that your eyes haven’t turned red and swollen already. drew shut the door gently behind her, her expression softening the slightest fraction at the sight of you.

“do i look that bad?” you ask, trying not to sniffle (and failing miserably).

a whirlwind of emotions cross drew’s face and you manage a watery grin. “okay, y’know what, don’t tell me then.”

drew sits next to you on the bed, handing you a box of tissues, “wasn’t planning to.”

the two of you sit shoulder to shoulder as she lets you have a minute to clean up before going straight for the jugular. “i heard what happened.”

you laughed, a choking noise that dissolved into weak coughing. drew patted your back. “so, the entire camp knows now?”

“no,” she says, before changing her mind, “well, yeah.”

“great,” you groaned, “my life is so over.”

drew tensed, tearing her gaze from the posters of hot people on the wall, to look at you, her brown eyes ablaze with fury and her silver earrings (also a gift from silena) jangle, “shut up, you’re the senior counselor of aphrodite cabin, and they’re all losers unworthy of your time. your life so isn’t over.”

(this is the drew from before, the drew that comes and goes in flashes so sudden that you try to piece her together like a puzzle that never seems to connect.)

“the curse,” you say, your throat tight.

drew’s eyes widen imperceptibly, her blue eyeshadow sparkling in the candlelit cabin, before her expression settles into a scowl. “what about the gift?” her voice sharpens as she stresses the last word, sparing the smallest glance toward the roof of the cabin.

you can’t continue, and you don’t have to — she knows what it is that you’re thinking of (she always has, from the minute you met her, two cold and shaking children alone in the dark).

she shakes her head emphatically. “silena,” her voice chokes, before dropping to a whisper, “silena left us — you can’t leave us too.”

“i know,” you whisper back, your eyes filling with tears. “i know.”

“oh, honey,” drew says sympathetically, drawing you into her arms, and smoothing your hair away from your face as you let out a sob against her shoulder. “break his heart,” she says.

“i can’t,” you mumble.

“you have to. he’ll die if you don’t, and a broken heart is better than dying.”

“i can’t do that to him, he’s so unbelievably good, drew, he deserves everything and more.”

“ignoring how ridiculously sappy that sounded, look at what happened to beckendorf,” you pretend not to notice how drew stumbles through his name (he looked at silena as if she had personally hung the stars in the night sky), “maybe he wouldn’t have gotten over it, but he would’ve been alive.”

you remember how silena had proudly said she was going to put an end to the archaic rite of passage your cabin was infamous for around camp; beautiful, idealistic silena with stars in her eyes (who liked beckendorf to the point she’d blush profusely at the mention of his name), who had no idea that this would all come crashing down around her some short months later.

at your silence, drew continues, still stroking your hair, “look, not to make this harder, but even i’ll admit jackson’s one of those guys you meet once in a lifetime—”

“thanks, drew, that was really helpful,” you interrupt, chuckling dryly.

“oh, shut up, i had a point,” drew says, swatting your shoulder playfully.

you sigh, letting her continue.

“so, like i was saying before i was so rudely interrupted, because jackson’s one of those once-in-a-lifetime type of guys—” here, you coughed pointedly, making drew glare at you before continuing, “—you should be like more willing to see him happy and like living a long ass life because you’re so in love with him.”

“so what, either i reject him and ruin our friendship irreversibly or we date and i break his heart and ruin our friendship irreversibly, or we date and i don’t break his heart and he dies tragically and there’s a possibility that i die tragically too?”

drew shrugged, making a tiny braid in your hair, “pretty much.”

you turned your head in her lap to look her in the eye, “how are you so apathetic about this?”

“someone has to be because you’re not thinking this through rationally.”

you groaned, “aphrodite has to hate us.” (you haven’t called her ‘mom’ genuinely except to her face during the winter solstices.)

“no, she lives for this kind of thing,” drew rolled her eyes, braiding another piece of your hair, “she definitely thinks she’s doing us a favor.”

you groaned again, “what if i just avoid him until summer ends and he goes back to school and forgets this happened.”

“i didn’t think love made you this stupid,” drew says, amused.

“shut up, i can’t wait until you have the same dilemma, and you’re the one asking for advice.”

“doubt it,” drew says, wryly.

you rolled your eyes, “okay, but what if i tell him about the ‘gift’,” you make air-quotes, “and let him decide?”

“yeah, but what if that just makes it backfire and makes you die tragically either way.”

“well, at least he’ll know about the possibility? it’s better than just being like ‘oh i can’t date you even though i’ve liked you since i was twelve’ with like zero explanation whatsoever.”

you hear muffled footsteps coming from outside of the cabin, and the door swings open loudly to admit lacy, who looks flustered and out of breath. you and drew quickly sprang up off your bed at her arrival.

“your boyfriend’s asking for you,” she says, looking at you.

drew raises her eyebrows at you, an unspoken are you going to see him? behind it.

you furrowed your eyebrows back at her, conveying no, shut up.

drew shrugged at you as if saying if you say so.

lacy looks between the two of you, confusion apparent before cautiously interrupting, “he’s waiting outside, by the way.”

you panicked at the thought of possibly confronting percy, “lacy, whatever you do, don’t tell him i’m in here.” you paused, “wait, tell him i’m taking a nap or something, please.”

more shuffling noises can be heard from outside, and drew groans, smacking her forehead with her palm, “what is wrong with you?”

you ignored her, focusing on lacy, whose confusion intensified as she looked between the two of you. “tell him i’m sleeping and he should try coming back later.”

she nodded, before opening the door and stepping outside.

drew stared at you, “y’know, i thought people were exaggerating when they said love makes you stupid but after looking at you, they were so right.”

you scowled at drew. she raised her arms in surrender, “just calling it like i see it.”

lacy returned a second later, “um, he wasn’t outside when i went to tell him.”

that was decidedly odd, but you chalked it up to him being busy or something, and shrugged, “i’ll see him later, it’s fine.”

it was actually not fine, because you didn’t see him later. or the next day. or the day after. well, you saw him but you didn’t see him. percy had somehow uncovered a hidden talent for making himself appear everywhere and nowhere all at once. he was there at meals, laughing with tyson or grover, he was at sword fighting practices, leading the class or giving clarisse a partner, he was at campfires, sitting next to annabeth and connor. yet, the minute you tried to approach him, it was almost as if he’d vanish, like an immortal was running interference.

you’ve taken to wandering by the lake on most nights — your only company the voices of silena (go talk to him, her urging is as present as if she was really there, memories of the time the two of you hadn’t been talking for a week resurging) and luke (what’re you doing out this late, kid? a phantom hand reaching out to ruffle your hair, and the feeling of ice being poured down your back envelops you).

as the sun sets, the tall and lanky figure — a figure you could recognize on the darkest nights — stands overlooking the lake in true jay gatsby fashion, his hands dug deep into the pockets of his baggy jeans. you stop and stare for a second (maybe a minute, an hour, time has truly escaped you), and suddenly you’re small and shivering in the dark again.

percy doesn’t look at you when you approach, though he fidgets with his camp necklace.

“hi,” you say, unsure of where to begin.

percy sighs, “look, if you’re here to ask for space, i get it, i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable the other day.” he doesn’t turn to look at you or even glance at you through the corner of his eye once.

“what?” you ask. “what are you talking about?”

“trust me, i get it, you don’t have to try to spare my feelings,” percy says. you want to will him to spare you just a glance. still, he avoids your gaze, focused on the horizon before you. “we’ve been friends for so long, i thought you could be honest with me.”

his words, though not said harshly (percy isn’t capable of being harsh, not to you at least) cut through you like a knife.

“you heard me when i was talking to lacy, then,” you say, with horror as the realization dawns on you slowly.

percy finally looks at you, and the sheer hurt in his iridescent eyes makes you inhale sharply. a lump forms in your throat.

“i did,” he confirms quietly. “why didn’t you say something earlier?”

fighting in a war hadn’t prepared you for man’s greatest folly, something that you, arguably, should’ve been good at. the lump in your throat is difficult to dislodge, yet percy is patient as you swallow uncomfortably.

“i never meant it like that.”

percy’s eyes flash, and you feel sick to your stomach. “have you ever wondered why so many of the other cabins hate us?”

his previously pained expression morphed into a look of confusion. you continued, “in aphrodite cabin, our rite of passage is to break your first love’s heart. silena—” your voice breaks. “—silena tried to put an end to it, and then both she and beckendorf—” you choke up again, and percy’s expression becomes solemn, “died tragically. we didn’t know the consequences of not doing it were real until then, and we realized it was a curse.”

you watch percy seemingly wrestle with his thoughts, taking a step toward you.

“why didn’t you tell me this earlier?” there is no judgment in his voice, yet you still feel embarrassment pooling in your stomach.

“can you honestly tell me that you’re okay with this? with the gods dictating another aspect of your life?” (somewhere in the back of your mind, you can hear luke’s voice repeating the same sentence.)

“you didn’t ask for this either.”

“it’s not our job to question them,” you say, trying not to let a tear slip.

“maybe we should,” percy says, still looking straight at you.

“careful,” you say, as thunder rumbled distantly overhead, “this is what luke was saying.”

“i don’t care,” percy says, “if you or i die a tragic death, we’ll just have to go through tartarus.”

he said it so simply, so matter-of-factly that your breath catches in your throat.

“so, you’re okay with this?” you ask, trying to suppress the tinge of hopefulness in your voice.

percy looked at you in disbelief, his face was so earnest, “why wouldn’t i be?”

you laughed, more out of shock than anything else. percy continued, “i think your mother would think we’d make a cute couple, so maybe she won’t curse us with a tragic end.”

you’re grinning now, tears forgotten, “more like she’ll give us a tragic end because she likes us.”

percy shrugged, “i think we’ll be fine as long as we’re together.”

he kissed you, finally, which was long over-due, and you felt like everything was finally falling into place.

“took you guys long enough.”

you turned around to find the source of the interruption, making eye-contact with clarisse, her arms folded and a smug expression on her face. beside her stands most of your friends, all adorning matching wicked expressions. your heart stops beating for a second before your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

“how much of that did you guys hear?” percy asked, suddenly looking bashful.

“most of it,” drew replied with a smirk.

percy looked at you, a mixture of embarrassment and amusement on his face as your friends surrounded the both of you, hoisting you on their shoulders.

“maybe the two of you need to cool off,” annabeth said with a laugh.

connor grinned at her, before calling out, “dump them in the lake!”

you groaned, begging, “annabeth, please.”

“this is payback for all the pining i had to witness over the years,” she said with another bright laugh.

percy shrugged at you, a grin on his face as if saying accept your fate. you gave in, shaking your head as you laughed at their antics.

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo x reader #percy jackson imagines #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson and the olympians #woc friendly #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x yn #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson oneshot #percy jackson one-shot #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson series #percy jackson x fem! reader #percy jackson oneshots #kashaf ki likhai

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evermore-grimoire · 1 year ago

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The Evermore Grimoire: Astrology

Gemini (May 21st to June 20th) is is the third astrological sign of the zodiac. In Greek mythology, the constellation Gemini is associated with the myth of Castor and Pollux, the sons of Leda (queen of Sparta) and either Zeus (king of the gods) or King Tyndareus of Sparta. They were inseparable throughout their lives, growing closer as they grew older. Together, they fought alongside each other in numerous battles and adventures. However one day Castor was tragically killed. Despite his death, Pollux decided to share his immortality with his brother so that they could always be together. Traits associated with Gemini include being smart, passionate, and dynamic and just like the twins they are known for having two different sides they can display to the world. Energetic and quick-witted, Gemini never gets stuck in the past and doesn't ruminate on what might have been. Instead, they move forward with glass-half-full optimism and an ability to always look on the bright side (and land on their feet) in nearly any situation. With a mind that's constantly racing, even when they're just quietly hanging out, the Twins never get bored. In fact, Gemini are happy keeping their own company, and can often turn their solitary daydreams into reality. Despite their unfair rep for being two-faced, once a Gemini is in your life, they're loyal for life but they aren't afraid to voice their opinion if they feel you're doing something they disagree with or if they perceive you as not being loyal to them. And even though Gemini is easily the life of the party without trying, the Twins also have a deep emotional side that needs care and feeding. They also like time to themselves to read, create, daydream, and come up with new ways of sharing their gifts with the world. When a Gemini is truly in their creative element, they're an unstoppable force of energy that can motivate, inspire, and enchant the rest of the Zodiac.

artwork by Yaroslava Apollonova

#MythEdit #MythologyEdit #Astrology #Zodiac Signs #Gemini #My Edit

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gaelmartinewrites · 2 years ago

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the werewolf and you

nsfw, monster,

you didn’t realize you were lost until it was too late. the once familia tress turned into dark and twisted shadows. the moon turned its back on you and offered no guidance.

all you wanted to do was go for a walk in the forest you were raised in. you knew these trees and they you but you were in too deep now. your thoughts clouded your eyes like the clouds about clouded the full moon. you knew not to be in the woods during a full moon. too many dangers in the woods already but even more so when the moon was full but you didn’t expect to get lost.

you took a turn here. took a turn there. left, right through the forest until you were no longer found. it was cold, the ground frozen and your dress too thin for the night ahead. you’d be an icicle when they find you in the morning, if they find you.

there was a clearing ahead of you. a fallen tree with its roots like reaching fingers offered you a place to sit. it wasn’t your nice, warm bed but it was someplace to rest for a moment. there was no point in walking any further. you were only getting loster.

half sleeves covered your arms and no matter hoe much you rubbed your hands against them, you still couldn’t find warmth. you wanted to start a fire but everything was too wet and your fingers were too numb. you though about other ways to warm yourself. like the way you do on cold winter nights alone in your room.

your breath quickened just at the thought. your dead fingers slowly came back to life. you put a finger into your mough to warm it- your tongue twisted and flicked and warmed your hand to life. your heart raced as your hand grazed yout breasts and stomach and as you lifted the hem of your dress. normally you’d tease yourself, take your time before you commited to yourself but you didn’t have the luxary this time. it was life or death, you reminded yourself. this was not for pleasure, it was to keep you warm. to keep you alive.

your fingers were inside you and your tongue pressed against your lips, holding back a moan. you gribbed bark as your fingers moved faster and faster. moans finally escaped your lips and formed clouds above your head. you were so enveloped with yourself you didn’t hear the twigs snapping around you. something testing your reaction but you kept yourself so blissfully unaware.

the warmth from your cunt exploded like a dying sun and wrapped its arms around you. your eyes were closed but you could still see stars and moons that danced around your weightless head. your breath escaped you like a wild storm and it took you awhile to find yourself in the darkness. yours bones came back to life and blood flowed through like a rushing river.

you opened your eyes hoping to find the moon but instead you were found by something else. in front you, blocking the ignorant moon, stood a dark, grey creature. a creatyre of myth. something from stories told you by your older sisters to scare you as a child. a werewolf, with teeth shinging against the light of the full moon, stood before you.

you had no time to react as the beast grabbed you and pulled you closer. one clawed hand wrapped around your wasit and the other reached for your breasts and tore open your dress to expose you to the elements. his touch scorched your skin and you could gather your thoughts, the werewolf was inside you. the moon, no longer hidden behind the clouds, blinded you. your hole stretched and pulsed against the beast’s cock. you wrapped your legs around his waist and steadied yourself on the fallen tree.

the werewolf’s grunts mixed with your moans and filled the air with erotic melodies. you moved your body to the rhythm. you felt your wetness slide down the roundness of your ass and feed the earth below.

the werewolf picked you up off the tree and fucked you in the air. his cock filled your cunt and warmed you to the core. your skin was on fire with passion and lust. the course fur of the werewolf wrapped around your fingers. you looked into the werewolf’s yellow eyes and he looked in yours. you could see the man behind the beast and the beast in control of the man.

the werewolf lifted his head and howled at the moon. he pumped you harder and faster and you howled, too. the werewolf’s cum exploded inside you, you could almost taste it in your mouth. you both continued to howl and after your song, you were spent and so was he.

the werewolf detached himself from you and place you on the ground. your knees buckled beneath you and you fell to your knees. you couldn’t speak, you couldn’t think. your mind was full of dirty and lustful thoughts of the werewolf. if you weren’t so tired you would’ve jumped on the beast again and demanded more but all you could do was close your eyes and fall to your side.

you fell asleep so quickly you didn’t feel the werewolf pick you up again and begin to run. it felt like only a whisper of a moment since you closed your eyes but when you opened them again you found yourself safe in your bed. it could’ve been a dream if it weren’t for you sill ripped dress. your nipples hard at the memories of what happened in the woods.

the sun was slowly rising in the sky nad your family would wake soon. you slipped off your dress and admired your cum stained legs. you wanted to stay that way all day, a naughty secret to keep while you did your chores. your family, assuming your innocent, unaware of the whore you truely are.

you took a wet cloth and cleaned yourself before butting on a new dress. you climbed back into bed, it would still be another two hours before anyone else stirred in the house. the warmth of your bed didn’t come slose to the warmth of the werewolf’s touch. you felt cold, as cold as you were when you were lost in the forest.

your thoughts began to cloud again but then you heard a howl. you smiled and listened to the hopeful song of your midnight lover, a final lullaby as you finally drifted off to sleep.

#this is unedited #and pretty much a first draft #werewolf #monster fucking #monster x human #monster x reader #monster smut #open to thoughts and comments #constructive critism too

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tylermileslockett · 7 months ago

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Atalanta #3 (Centaurs Attack)

As the girl blossoms into a young woman, she grows powerful and wild, like her patron goddess Artemis. And as a loyal devotee of the virgin Goddess, Atalanta also chooses to remain chaste. While trekking the hills of Mount Parthenium, she comes upon two centaurs, Rhoecus and Hylaeus, who, lusting after the girl, give chase. But the centaurs choose their prey poorly, for Atalanta is no helpless maiden, and she turns her fine archery skills upon them with brutal efficiency.

Centaurs (Kentauroi) were savage, lustful, half-man half-horse creatures that roamed the wilds, of Mount Pelion of Thessaly. The line of Centaurs begins with a mortal, King Ixion, who Zeus, suspecting of foul intention with his wife, tricks into laying with a cloud version of Hera. Strangely the race of centaurs are born from this union. For his transgression, Ixion is sent to Tartarus in the underworld for punishment, and tied to a burning, spinning wheel for eternity.

In the myth of the Centauromachy, king Peirithous of the Lapiths, sharing heritage of Ixion as father, invites the centaurs to his wedding celebration. However, the centaurs become drunk off the wine, and attempt to rape and kidnap the women of the party. The Lapiths fight back, and the heroes Jason and Theseus, being invited guests, help to fight off the creatures, finally driving them off.

Another centaur, Nessus, has the distinction of killing the great hero Hercules. When the centaur attempted to rape Hercules wife, Deanira, the hero used arrows tipped with the poisonous blood of the hydra to kill him. But as he lay dying, his blood soaking his vest, he told Hercules wife to use the vest as a love charm.

Like this art? It will be in my illustrated book with over 130 other full page illustrations coming in June to kickstarter. to get unseen free hi-hes art subscribe to my email newsletter

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#greekmythology #greekgods #pjo #mythology #classics #classicscommunity #myths #ancientgreece #artemis #centaur #ovid

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y-rhywbeth2 · 3 months ago

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Elven 'Physiology' and Quirks

Link: Disclaimer regarding D&D "canon" & Index[tldr: D&D lore is a giant conflicting mess. Larian's lore is also a conflicting mess. There's a lot of lore; I don't know everything. You learn to take what you want and leave the rest]

Physiology and quirks | Names & Clans and Houses || Pan-Cultural things: Social life | Time and Age Categories | Homes | Language | Art | Entertainment | Technology || Elven 'Subraces' still a wip || Philosophy and Religion & Pantheons || Half-elves | [WIP]

In my continued desire to procrastinate on reading two novels and cross-referencing about three sourcebooks for drow culture, I met myself in the middle and did this instead.

Also I really need to rehaul some of the lore compilations...

Unlike elves of other worlds, the Tel'Quessir – except drow – are as tall as humans, but finer boned and typically narrower in build – except for aquatic elves. An elf weighs less than a human of the same build and height, which appears to be something to do with their bone density, as elven bones (especially winged elves’) are light (though ‘surprisingly sturdy’). Their fingertips taper, and their hands and fingers are longer than a humans… although I still think saying they’re 50% longer (palm and fingers) is a bit much.

Elves are noted for their androgyny, which goes both ways; there's not much difference in the skeletal structure and elven women are noted by humans for their narrow hips, which led to a comment that it must make childbirth agonising in comparison.

Elves are also noted for their distinctive 'dance-like' motions while walking due to walking on their toes and the balls of their feet: 'Most seemed to have a lilt and swing, like dancers. Ah, that was it—none strode flat-footed; even the tallest and most hurried of the citizenry danced forward on their toes.' - Elminster in Myth Drannor

They don't grow much in the way of body hair - they appear hairless, with the only visible hair on their eyebrows and scalp. Elves unused to mixed company find non-elves disturbingly hirsute.

The shape of their facial features, regardless of ‘subrace,’ are as varied as humans. The only rules of thumb are about their eyes and ears:

Elven ears are always pointy – but can vary greatly in shape and length otherwise. They’re somewhat prehensile; elven children can move their ears, but generally this ability is lost with maturation. Maintaining it seems to be a genetic quirk. Whether the shape or whatever, elves have sharp hearing.

Elven eyes are larger in proportion to their face and spaced a little further apart than human eyes, slightly slanted in a manner that gives them a wider field of vision and more acute vision in general.

If you're using recent editions then elves can see in very low light conditions (able to see perfectly clearly by starlight alone). Drow can see in perfect darkness.

If you want to go by older editions you're looking at infravision: elves, like other beings that can 'see' in the darkness, were able to change their sight to the infrared spectrum, perceiving heat signatures. Drow vision was further ranged and more acute than surface elves'.

Elves aren't diurnal, and have no particular circadian rhythm, they just get four hours in whenever and communities are have a consistent level of full activity all day and night.

The elven olfactory senses are much sharper, as is their sense of taste. Drow raised in the Underdark have a sense of smell on par with humans, due to overexposure to incense and other strong fragrances used in ritual and covering up the fact that living crowded together in caves doesn't always spell great. Elves are picky eaters, both due to taste and texture, deriding non-elven cuisine as ‘over-spiced animal flesh and other abominable foods.’

Elves are biologically wired for music somehow, able to recall melodies flawlessly and engage in music theory , 'the elven faculty for music is uncanny in comparison to most other races,' which they credit to the divine influence of the Seldarine.

While this doesn't always come up in the rules, elves are immune to the paralytic effects of ghouls, due to an incident involving either Corellon Larethian or Lolth, and the ghoul deity Doresain, who in the version of his backstory given for the Realms was a green elf back in -11,200 DR whose recent ancestors were of the nation of Eiellûr and betrayed their people to the dark elven empire of Ilythiir. A rather brutal bastard and slaver who eventually killed and ate the raw flesh of the ruling family of the last surviving green elven nation of Southern Faerûn as part of a pact with the demon lord of the undead, Orcus for eternal life. When Doresain later fell in combat during one of the many skirmishes of the Crown Wars, Orcus brought him back as a unique undead horror and King of the Ghouls and Orcus’ proxy on Toril (so that Orcus could focus on important matters in the Abyss). Doresain eventually became trapped in the Abyss, trapped in service to Yeenoghu when Orcus ignored his pleas to save him (despite his ‘domain’ Orcus despises the undead). Most Torilian sages claim that Lolth intervened and freed him, bringing Doresain back to Toril in exchange for imbuing the drow with immunity to his children and swearing that ghouls would never attack them, which indirectly affected all elves (except for the ‘not attacking’). Others claim he prayed to the gods of his living years, the Seldarine, and they took pity on him in exchange for the same service.

The Seldarine are always depicted as genderfluid or agender – if depicted in art in humanoid form they are shown with two bodies as afab and amab, or possessing both characteristics in a single form. Occasionally a mortal elf is also born who takes after the gods; marked by their androgyny (by elven standards) and the ability to alter their sex characteristics at will, these elves are considered blessed by Corellon and closer to the gods by many elven cultures. They haven’t been given an official word, but the elven word for ‘Blessings of Corellon’ on Toril is ‘Cormiira.’ According to the most popular take on the elven creation myth, the People are born of Corellon’s blood (and possibly Sehanine’s tears as she wept at seeing him gravely wounded), which many elves attribute this as evidence for. The Tel’Quessir do have several other creation myths however.

Elves have an innate connection to the Weave, which is why they're 'the wizard race' and something to do with their connection to the world. Elves are more likely to have the innate ability required to become arcane spellcasters, and some say the Weave is what gives them their lifespans.

Going into purely non-published realmslore from word of god:

The elven gestation period takes two years (this I’m pretty sure is in published DnD somewhere?) Elves tend to avoid being pregnant unless they actively want to and have generally mastered the art of not being pregnant, the threat of being side-lined by shorter lived peoples who have more children and faster be buggered.

The elven diet primarily consists of raw plant matter and fish. The elven digestive system can handle vegetation that others’ cant. They can eat meat, and many do – especially those who grow up around humans, who have developed a tolerance that makes it easier for them to digest – but it’s not a ‘natural’ part of their diet nor does it play a large role. Apparently drinking small quantities animal blood is a reasonably common enough way to consume land animals (I’m not clear on whether this is in the form of soups or beverages).

Elves are severely allergic to cannabis and can't use it, though they have found unspecified alternatives.

While getting it is unpleasant, they are only inconvenienced by bubonic plague and its not considered a dangerous disease.

Elves also draw energy from the sunlight, which bolsters their metabolism, allowing them to eat less and possibly playing a part in their ability to digest previously mentioned plant matter. Access to fresh water (not just drinking it) also plays a part in their overall health. Somehow. Dark elves in the Underdark have adapted over the centuries (or maybe from the High Magic ritual that binds them to it) to draw from the faerzress radiation.

Elven vocal chords can reach pitches higher than humans can reach, and there's a gene that can allow the elf to produce two notes at the same time, which with training allows them to sort-of say two things at once (a 'ghost' vocalisation beneath the spoken words). This is described as 'genetic but not racial' so I assume it can pass to half-elves and any non-elven descendants through them.

---

Reverie/'Eedqa':

Elves do not sleep, unless something has gone wrong (injury, illness, exhaustion). They also can’t be forced to sleep, and are immune to magic that would do so (but not to being whacked over the back of the head and knocked out with something heavy).

- Elves enter a state called the Reverie (or just reverie) in Common, and ‘eedqa’ in Elven. The elf finds a quiet place to relax, gradually tuning out the world and slipping into a trance-like state where they re-experience their lived memories, occasionally interspersed with memories from past lives and visions from the gods – which will be vague and puzzling and probably require a priest to decode, the Lady of Mysteries did not earn that nickname for nothing. - They are somewhat aware of their surroundings in reverie, but pulling themselves back out of their mind is disorienting and waking early is extremely disorienting, much like waking any sleeping individual. Physically, they are immobile, not necessarily lying in a normal sleeping position (sitting or reclining is the norm), their breathing slows into a torpor and their eyes remain open and unfocused, which has occasionally caused panic in acquaintances who’ve never witnessed reverie before and think the elf has died (elves in turn are known to find the 'heaviness' of sleep disturbing to behold).

The only elves who deliberately sleep are priests of Sehanine Moonbow, who occasionally enter the deeper state of unconsciousness to communicate with their goddess, and the majority of drow (whose struggles to achieve reverie have been credited to the Underdark 'fragmenting' their natural instincts, and their inability to relax enough to enter the state).

Elves experience their first reverie in the womb, as pregnancy forges a temporary Rapport between parent and developing foetus where the offspring experiences the parent’s life and learns of their family and culture through them (how much the child can learn varies by parent; quality of education not guaranteed). Young children, lacking experiences of their own, are more likely to experience memories of previous lives unless they share in the reveries of other elves. The occurrence of the first ‘current life’ reverie is a life milestone and typically marks the end of childhood.

It’s very taboo amongst elves to interrupt another elf’s reverie.

Communion and Aleirin:

'Elves who lived even in reasonably close contact were so connected to each other through the Reverie and the Weave that they shared at least some shadow of each other’s emotional experiences.'

Elves have something of telepathic abilities, such as the ability to sense their own kind, a ‘sense of welcome,’ ‘warmth’ and ‘safety,’ although this can be obscured. This extends to the ability to enter each others minds and share thoughts, emotions and memory. Although that’s not to say that elves are living in each others heads, nor that they can (or are willing to) do it simply or constantly.

The state of ‘mind melding’ is communion, which is accomplished by sharing reverie while in physical contact (holding hands or pressing palms together, usually). The elven term for communion is apparently quor, however I can’t say for certain that applies to this mystical variety. Communing is credited with the sense of community elves experience, is an important part of elven religion, and they’re noted to anticipate sharing themselves with loved ones and struggle to understand non-elves due to their lack of ability to do so. However, it’s not a state entered into casually, as it requires deep trust and a willingness to be vulnerable with your entire being – you are exposing your every emotion and memory to another. Preparation may take weeks of mundane communication as the elves do away with any prejudices and air concerns to be resolved beforehand. It’s also physically and emotionally draining, and while in communal reverie the elves are entirely unaware of anything but each other and are vulnerable to surrounding hazards. Up to four elves may participate at once.

This awareness of each other lends elves an understanding that allows them to predict each others moods and actions acutely, and aids them to work in sync or borrow one anothers skills for a time (for example an elf who doesn’t know how to speak a certain language may temporarily ‘know’ after borrowing the knowledge from another elf.) Extended use of communion may cause loss of individuality however, as the elves begin to blend into each other.

Elves who isolate themselves from their people - whether this is by their own bitterness, malice, scheming, etc, or if the source is due to external magical affects like the Shadow Weave digging out these emotions (which; Shar, that’s what she does) - lose the ability to reverie and the ability to commune with it. Other elves cannot sense them, describing them as feeling ‘asleep.’

Drow may or may not be capable. They are capable of reverie, which would indicate that they can, they just don't know they can, or plain don't (Lolth would firmly discourage it with torture and death regardless).

Some elves, when they trust each other implicitly, may chose to make the link more permanent – a communion that never ends, in a form called Rapport or aleirin, or aleiryid if the nature of their relationship is romantic. The bonding is permanent, and can usually only be made a single time. Those born of multiple births like twins have rapport with their siblings, but outside of this it’s still uncommon for an elf to make this level of commitment and most are happier with normal, less co-dependent relationships (especially because, if you want to bring in the Complete Book of Elves, the shock of one partner dying can kill the other). A rapport can be made with non-elves, a ranger could even choose to establish one with their animal companion, but such bonds are so rare as to be practically unheard of.

The ability to commune has been attributed to a gland in the elven brain, which produces a magic that veils their minds. At rest it forms a shield that isolates them (and some scholars believe this is where the elven resistance to enchantment magic comes from), but they can lift it or expand it to bring other elven minds in.

The elven resistance to enchantment spells has also been credited to elven culture itself, since magic saturates their world so heavily elves grow up exposed to a constant background radiation of enchantment magic, for lack of a better word, and build up a tolerance. Others have said it’s the elves fey ancestry.

Souls/'Ues':

Like most sapient beings who are not humans – or mostly/half-human (excluding half-orcs) dwarves, gnomes or halflings – elven souls, ‘ues’ in elven, are somewhat different to the norm. sometimes differentiated in lore by calling them ‘spirits,’ and do not stay permanently in the afterlife, instead residing in the outer planes for a time (varying from days to millennia) before reincarnating back on the Prime Material Plane. While 5e claims drow are locked out of the cycle, the original lore included drow, and suggested that elves who decide to be evil little bastards in life and bar themselves from Arvandor will find themselves reincarnated as drow (vice versa: a drow who rejects Lolth is unlikely to find themselves reborn in her clutches).

(Elves do not have access to DnD sourcebooks and do not have any concrete idea of this kind of thing, so elven religion and philosophy varies heavily and may or may not reflect these things. Some elves don’t even believe in reincarnation.)

Another traditional side effect was that raise dead didn’t work on elves, only resurrection. Space was made for DMs to hand-waive this if it was getting in the way (because it makes elves expensive to have in the party), and the rule seems to have been officially side-lined for convenience by this point.

Ageing:

How elves age has varied by edition and writer. Sometimes they're human aging, sometimes a bit slower, sometimes much, much slower.

In most sources, including 5e core, an elf matures at the same rate, physically and psychologically, as a human, later developing into elven psychological stages as the centuries pass and they outlive the human experience.

It's also been said that Torilian elves are physically mature at 25.

In older editions, including realms sources, elves could age slower, taking between 30-60 years to hit puberty (which lasts another 50-85 years). Psychologically, non-elves are known to find elven youths to be rather mature for their age (due to longer lives and communing with the adults in their lives), though they’re still inexperienced by elven standards and hormonal. Elven children are left to pursue their ever shifting curiosity, instincts and impulses which means they generally don’t master any skills and end up about level with any other race by early adulthood. Drow have the fastest rates of maturation, Gold elves the slowest. Wheras in humans afab are known to hit puberty first on average, elves mature at the same average speed regardless.

Elves also have a mystical land-connection thing and are noted to be shaped by their environments, and it has been said of the latter version of ageing that elves may mature faster outside of the slow pace of elven cultures, particularly in dangerous and stressful situations where they need to grow fast.

Bizarrely, and I’m assuming this is a typo, it seems that the process of elven puberty is a bit like getting steroids because they get strength and dexterity bonuses. Or maybe elven teens are just stronger and more agile than their human counterparts, which is probably more likely if it isn't a typo.

#standing by with a heavy stick that says 'he's a grown ass man' on one side and 'don't' on the other: just in case #lore stuff #pointy eared stuff #long post

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snippychicke · 1 year ago

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Legend of the Selkie and the Pirate --Two--

Fandom: One Piece (LA mainly)

Rating: Teen/mature (we have non-graphic nudity stated)

Pairing: Buggy/Selkie!Reader

Warnings: None except heartbreak?

Summary: Even in a world of monsters, devil fruits, pirates, and fishmen, selkies were considered a myth. Especially in the East Blue where the waters were too warm for seals to live anyways.

Except that myths were always seeded with truths, and stories always had a habit of coming to life.

Tagging: @tfamidoingwithmylife; @yellowbbear ; @skullr0se; @chiyo-juice

Masterlist|Ao3

(psst, if you're a long time reader of mine and noticed that I had posted part one without dramatic use of italicized words... that was because tumblr ate my formatting. It is fixed now along with a few spelling/grammar corrections.)

Prompt: Something/Someone missing

The joy of a large trove of treasure disappeared as Buggy watched the seal slip beneath the railing and over the edge. Without thinking, he called out your name as he raced to the edge, just to watch you gracefully disappear beneath the choppy waves. He was somewhat aware of the rest of the crew torn from the treasure, but was frozen as he watched the water. Hoping--Praying-- that you'd break the surface. That you would reappear--either human or seal-- and he could pluck you up once more despite the earlier ocean spray on his hands had already made them painful and weak.

He'd do it again. And again and again.

If you would just reappear.

"Not even a goodbye," Mohji whined eventually. "Richie is going to be so heartbroken."

Who the fuck cared about the lion? He was heartbroken. The necklace he had in his fist--the one he was about to insist you try when he had first turned around-- cut into his hand as he clenched his fist.

Why? What did your family or kind or whatever have that he couldn't provide you? Were any them as flashy as he was? Making you constantly smile and laugh? Did any of them take you and accept you as easily as his crew had?

Did any of them love you like he did?

Or was it his one flaw? His one weakness? That he couldn't swim. That the ocean hated him for fucking accidentally eating that damn fruit.

That damn Shanks. If he ever saw him again, he would rip his throat out.

(Don't let it be his nose. It couldn't be his nose, right? You said it was fine, and he didn't think you were lying.)

"Cap'n?" Mohji asked, breaking Buggy from his thoughts.

The crew was looking towards him, which he usually didn't mind. Except there was pity in their eyes. As if they could tell--as if they knew--how he felt.

"What are you freaks looking at?!" He shouted with a manic grin. "We just hit the jackpot! It's time to celebrate!"

The cheers were less than heartfelt, but Buggy let it slide. This once.

Granted, later that night, while the crew was sleeping off draining half the beer they had on board, Buggy made his way to the small room you had claimed.

You had been with them for just a few short months, and yet you had made the tiny room your own. Hammock full of blankets and pillows stolen from who knew where. A chest brimming with clothes donated by the crew. A vanity with a cracked mirror, yet you.hadn't seemed to mind. You had placed shiny rocks and shells in the canister meant to hold makeup and brushes.

He took the necklace he had kept in his pocket and put itt in the main drawer, next to the hairbrush (your hair mixed with a few of his since it had been a spare he had found in his own room). He knew he was being foolish, but he held on to the sliver of hope you'd be back. That you would look at his gift with delight and grin happily at him. That the sparkling gems would look as beautiful as he imagined against your skin.

And, well, if he happened to fall into your hammock, pulling your pillow close to his chest, it was merely because he drank too much. But in the moment, he knew the truth as the sway of the ship rocked him into an uneasy sleep.

He missed you.

Prompt: Forgetfulness

You had forgotten how lonely the sea was.

As the sun set and everything became dark, you pulled yourself up to an outcropping of rocks before shifting and looking to the stars. Except the sky was clouded, obscuring everything.

The night would have been silent if not for the sound of water splashing against the rock and your legs. It was impossible to tell where the sea and sky separated--all that you could see was inky blackness. As if you had somehow appeared into an abyss.

You shivered, but you weren't cold. You still pulled your fur tighter as you continued to shake, chest becoming painfully tight.

You wanted to be on the pirate ship right now. You wanted to hear the rumble of snores of the crew. The soft boot steps of those taking watch. The soft glow of the lamps and candles.

Buggy finding you and ending the lonely night often brought alongside insomnia. It had become a little routine, making you wonder what made it so hard for him to sleep at night.

You never asked.

Finally the tightness erupted into a scream, hot tears stinging your eyes.

You had forgotten what true loneliness was like.

You forgot the heartache of missing those dear to you.

Your heart wasn't sure it even knew where 'home' was. The arctic where your pod was. Where your parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins, were.

Or a ship where you were surrounded by people so unlike but had wormed their way into your heart nonetheless.

(Or maybe where a blue haired pirate grinned at you with bright eyes and a red nose. Like you were the most amazing thing he had ever seen.)

Prompt: Unexpected

"We're going to the Grand Line!"

The crew of freaks stared at their captain in confusion. When he had called them together, this was not what they expected his announcement to be. In fact, no one had cared to even place bets considering they all believed it to be the same.

To go after you.

"The… Grand Line, Captain?" Mohji was brave enough to ask, clearly as confused as everyone else despite the fact he was technically Buggy's second in command.

Thankfully, Buggy grinned at the white curly-haired man. Though there was a hint of mania yet again to his blue eyes. "You heard me. We've pittered about the East Blue for long enough, it's time to go after the grand prize--the One Piece!"

"Don't we need a map for the Grand Line?"

"Does the One piece actually exist?

"Well, rumor has it Buggy was on Rogers ship. So if he thinks it does, then it must, right?"

Buggy wasn't too concerned about the talk amongst the crew, that was to be expected. After all, it was a big change.

But then…

"What about our selkie that jumped shipped?" Mohji asked, and everyone quickly grew silent, looking towards the captain expectedly.

Buggy felt his eye twitch as he gritted teeth behind his smile.

Waking up in your hammock had made the truth hit him like a sledgehammer. You were gone. You chose to leave, without so much as a goodbye.

Escaping to the one place he couldn't follow.

"Our little seal made her choice," he said, turning to his first mate with murder in his eyes. "And I don't want to hear another word about it."

Because his heart was bruised enough as it was.

He wasn't going to chase after someone who didn't want him. (Just like everyone else in his life he had cared for. He had opened his heart to you, only for you to devour what little had remained before jumping overboard.)

Prompt: Undone

"Well, she's rather special. I mean, can you blame him?"

"Hmph. Captain Buggy has made it a point to build a crew of people that don't fit in. We're his band of freaks. But at least we're human. Or fishperson. The bitch is as useful as a one-legged man in an ass kicking contest. I mean, she had to be taught how to wash dishes."

"Either she sharpens up, or the Captain will realize how useless she is and send her overboard too."

The words still echoed in your head despite it being weeks since they were spoken. The conversation you weren't meant to hear but did. The one that made you realize you didn't belong among the land-kind.

That you weren't meant to be one of Buggy's crew. That the chore girl position you had been given was just to keep you entertained and out from under others feet.

Oh sure, many of the crew acted like they enjoyed you being there-- especially Buggy himself-- but not all of them were such great actors. The scoffs. the sneers.

Some things were universal no matter what.

The cry of a seagull roused you from the half-sleep. You groaned when you realized the sun had moved, meaning you were no longer in the shade of the towering cliffs but in the hot sun.

You grabbed your fur and moved into the new shaded area. Hoping to get a little more sleep before the sunset and you could resume your attempt at finding home.

Goddamn tropics being so hot. It was way too warm to try and swim during the day, so you resorted to trying to sleep while the sun bore down. Yet always alert for any land-kind, so sleep was a relative term.

But at least there were plentiful fish in the waters.

Yet… your time on the pirate ship had spoiled you. All that different food.

Baked.

Roasted.

Toasted.

Fried.

And the fruit. The cool and sweet juices from biting into one busting into your mouth. Sometimes too much and escaping the corners of your lips.

Buggy laughed as you tried hard to catch the juice with your hands. He eventually reached over and wiped some you didn't notice from your chin and made a show of licking it from his glove. "Juicy little thing, aren't you?"

"I-it was," you agreed, trying to reign in your impulses that you didn't realize what he truly said.

How were you supposed to enjoy going back to eating merely to survive after that? (Were you ever going to get him out of your head?)

You continued to try and sleep, ignoring the pain any dreams brought once you woke.

Prompt: Eyes

For being stuck in a sack, bodiless, and more or less prisoner of Arlong, everything had been going fine. Listening to Luffy's antics was always entertaining. The boy was so clueless and full of optimism that it was almost unbelievable at times. As well as rather annoying, considering how the rubber-cursed teen and his tiny crew had beaten him

What was wrong with this kid?

Maybe the Gum-Gum fruit had done something to his brain too.

Okay, things were massively sucking for Buggy right now, but he held out hope. He had escaped worse situations. Yes his body was too far away for him to literally pull himself together. But after they tracked down the Straw hat, Arlong said he'd let him go.

Granted, Arlong was the kind of pirate to lie straight to your face, but all Buggy had at this point was hope.

And then he heard you. He knew wherever his body was it jerked, instinct to whip around to look for you before he remembered his ear was miles away at the Baratie restaurant hidden in Luffy's cap.

What the fuck were you doing there.

He wiggled his ear slightly in hopes things weren't so muffled. As angry and hurt as he still was, there was no denying that he was desperate to hear your voice clearly.

He wanted to see you. Touch you. Talk to you. (Demand to know why you had left him the way you did. Hadn't any of the time you spent with them, with him, meant enough for at least a goodbye?)

"--I'm lost," you admitted slowly, sounding as cautious as when you first boarded his ship. Back when you didn't know who to trust and expected someone to do something. "I'm trying to head north, but--"

He silently groaned, rolling his eyes, the Baratie was south of the Deadman Stacks. No wonder you ended up in the East Blue. You were absolutely clueless when it came to directions, weren't you?

(He could have helped. If you had just asked. If you had just waited another minute.)

"Where's home?" Luffy asked, full of innocent optimism that set Buggy's teeth on edge.

You wouldn't. You wouldn't dare accept help from the brat after leaving him. Right? There was nothing that kid had that he didn't. (Except a normal nose-- no. You didn't care about his nose.)

"North?" You answered awkwardly, and Buggy wasn't sure if you were avoiding the question, or if you really didn't know.

"Like, Shells town? Syrup Village?"

"Um… further… north?"

You… didn't know. At least, none of their names for places. And you didn't trust them enough to divulge that truth. His innocent little lamb lost at sea for how many months now? He didn't think his heart could stand another knife in it.

"I mean, Cozia is the northernmost isle of the East Blue I know," A new voice peeped in. One of the waitstaff if he recalled right. Sangria? Sojo? Something like that. It didn't matter, not really.

"That sounds… kinda familiar?" You answered, though your voice was tinged with obvious doubt. You were such a horrible liar. (Which only confused him more, because he had thought you at least liked him. Yet you ran away. Why?)

"Don't worry, my cherie, you rest and eat your fill. We'll find a way to get a beautiful woman such as yourself home." The waitstaff flirted, making Buggy grit his teeth as he tried to keep his snarl silent, well aware that Along's crew was probably listening.

Hell no. No suave fucking waiter was going to try and steal you from him. (Completely ignoring the fact you obviously weren't his to be stolen.)

Wait.

Shit. Fuck.

Arlong was heading for the Baratie. Where you were.

And as happy as he was to find you, for the chance to just see you again, there was no mistaking the fear rolling in his gut even if he wasn't attached to his body.

What if you got caught up in the inevitable fight? You could defend yourself, but against Arlong's crew? One Selkie against three fishman that were stronger than himself?

What if Arlong decided he wanted you as a trophy? What if he took your fur from you again? Unlike Buggy, Arlong was known to hold people captive for long periods of time, doing as he pleased. (Buggy held on to the fact he wasn't that bad since he only gave the towns and villages a mandatory free show for a few nights and before he'd leave and allow them to rebuild their boring little lives.)

And all Buggy could do was watch. A bodiless head, unable to do anything but watch. Listen. Maybe beg but he already knew any pleading would fall on deaf ears.

Prompt: Crowds

You had impulsively followed the smell of food, sick of fish, and ended up giving a few humans--Luffy and Sanji-- heart attacks when you pulled yourself halfway onto the deck asking for food.

And well, you had gotten what you had asked for that ruined your usual diet even more because it tasted divine. But as you ate, the two had been full of questions and one thing led to another and…

They wanted to help you. Apparently their navigator might know more about where you were heading.

Except chaos erupted before you could even meet their navigator. Maybe it was because you were surrounded by too many humans, but you felt exposed. Overstimulated. The constant chatter of the patrons. The clinks of silverware against plates.

The animalistic part of your brain finally won out, and you ran yet again. There was a storm on the horizon and you didn't want to be caught in the middle of it.

You didn't care which way you were going, you jumped into the water and dived deep and fast, allowing your body to follow the urge to run and hide.

~*~

You weren't at Baratie.

Hours later as Buggy helped the Straw Hat idiots navigate.to Arlong Park, the mantra repeated itself in his head. You weren't there. You hadn't been amongst the crowd of diners that Arlong threatened. You weren't part of Lyffy's little crew.

Buggy was relieved. Angry. Devastated. Thankful.

Oh, you had been there. Your voice hadn't been a figment of his deranged imagination. But apparently between Mihawk's attack and Arlong’s arrival, you had slipped off into the night without so much as a word. (Which did help a little. Especially as Sanji mourned the fact two 'lovely ladies' had disappeared on him without so much as a goodbye.)

"Wait, you knew her?" Luffy asked after Buggy not-so-subtly asked if they had seen a curvy gal in a seal-skin coat.

Buggy grinned, though he felt an eye twitch. "You could say that. But I mean, what man really knows a woman, am I right?"

"She's running away from you, isn't she?" Zoro guessed-- making Buggy grit his teeth.

God, if he had his body right now he would have decked the grass-haired man. Right in the swordsman's chest wounds. (See how he liked a knife in the heart.)

"That would imply I actually gave a shit about what she's up to." Okay. He couldn't lie to himself. He did. Hearing you were still so lost had taken the edge off his anger. He was still mad, but it was tempered with worry now. "She's merely an old acquaintance and I was surprised to hear her voice is all. She doesn't like hanging around crowds."

"She was a jumpy little rabbit," Sanji agreed with a dreamy hint to his voice. Okay, forget the dramatic samurai-wanna be, Buggy was going to slaughter the chef. "I should have offered to protect her. To keep her safe from whatever frightened her."

That madeBuggy laugh. "That is a riot. Friend, buddy, pal, let me tell you a little secret. Those sharp teeth aren't for decoration. I've seen her kill half a dozen men in just a few minutes with those chompers of hers alone. She'll bite your hand off if it wanders a bit too much-- and I do mean literally."

And yet… you were still an innocent little lamb he felt compelled to protect as well.

Or maybe just stand back and watch you protect yourself, clapping and cheering the same way you did during one of his performances.

But the fact.remained, you had left him. You did not want him or his crew.

He was in the midst of his body being kidnapped and sailing into the territory of one of the most vicious pirates of the East Blue with a ragtag bunch of idiots. That should be what took precedence in his mind.

Not you. (Yet it was.)

#opla buggy #op buggy #captain buggy #buggy x reader #one piece #opla

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george-weasleys-girl · 10 months ago

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I have a request!!! I've had this idea rattling around in my head for a while. I've tried to write it, but I keep getting stuck!

So, essentially, the idea is Reader x George where the reader's dad is a vampire who got cast out of the vampire kingdom and found the love of his life, the reader's mom, a witch. So the reader is part vampire, part witch. I can't decide if I want the reader to be more powerful or less powerful than a regular vampire due to the magic that's also in her veins. I want the story to be focused around George catching Reader drinking a bag of blood sent by her parents and asking about it! Reader is defensive until she realizes that George isn't being rude, just curious. Then it's really fluffy about Reader opening up about how hard it is to not share her real heritage with her friends!!

If you don't want to do this, that's totally okay, I just can't stop thinking about it and I think you'd execute it really well!!!!!

As always, much love!!!!!

Sanguine Moon

Thank you for sending in such a fun idea!💗

George x fem dhampir!reader, platonic with the possibility of something more

Warnings: mentions of drinking blood, a few curse words

~•~

Y/N waited until she was alone before pulling out the bag of blood wrapped neatly in the package that had arrived this morning. Sighing, she undid the cap, wishing she hadn't forgotten her special drinking glass at home during her recent visit. She detested drinking from a plastic bag. There was just something so uncouth about it. If she had to drink blood, Y/N reckoned she could at least do it with a bit of style.

Oh, well. There's nothing for it now.

"Bottoms up," she muttered to herself and gracelessly upended her weekly ration. She'd barely gotten a taste when the door flew open. "There you are, Y/N! I was looking - " George froze, eyes wide as saucers as he took in the scene before him.

~•~

Y/N lowered the bag, wiping a trickle of blood from her chin. Dammit, how could I forget to lock the door?

"Um... is that what I think it is?" George stepped toward her, his stare focused squarely on the object in her hands.

"I don't know," she attempted to cover the bag. "What do you think it is?"

"It... um... it looks like blood," George stammered.

A million retorts raced through her head, each more ridiculous than the last. So she went with the most mature thing she could think of. "So, what of it!?" She snapped, jutting her chin out.

The redhead blinked, taking a tentative step toward her. "I didn't mean anything bad by it. It's just that it's not every day you walk in on your friend drinking blood, you know?"

"Oh. Right," Y/N's face burned a bright vermillion. "No, I don't suppose you do."

An awkward silence settled over the room. "So, uh," George began, moving to sit beside her. "Are you like a vampire or something?"

Y/N let out a long breath. No point in trying to hide the truth now. "I'm a dhampir," she said bluntly.

"A dhampir?"

"Half vampire, half human," she explained.

George's eyes lit up. "So, one of your parents is a vampire?"

"Yeah, um, my dad."

"And your mum's a..."

"Witch."

"Wow, that is so cool, Y/N!" George's mind whirled with a million different questions. "Do you have any special powers? Like turning into a bat, or super strength?"

"Ok, first off, vampires do not turn into bats. That's a myth muggles came up with to explain why some bats drink blood," she explained. "But as for the second one, I am stronger than the average human."

"Like how strong?" The corners of George’s mouth quirked up.

Y/N shrugged and took a sip of blood. "When I'm at full strength, I could carry the whole Gryffindor Quidditch team in one go," she confessed, then paused for a second, trying not to giggle at George's "deer-in-the-headlights" expression. "And I can see in the dark. Like no light at all, pitch-black dark." She took another sip. "Also, I can fly without a broom."

George's mouth fell open. "Seriously? Without an incantation?"

"Mhmm, since I was four years old." Y/N's apprehension had faded, and she was now openly gulping down the bag of blood.

"Could you, like, take another person with you?" George asked with a sheepish grin. "Flying, I mean."

Y/N smiled. "When I'm finished with this," she held up the half-empty bag. "Yes, I can." She then took another swig. "Would you like me to take you flying?"

"Hell yeah!" George grinned like a fool.

~•~

George held tight to her hand as they soared upward and away from Hogwarts. The warm air of late spring grew colder the higher they ascended. He was glad he remembered to grab his jacket.

"I never realized how relaxing flying can be," he commented. "Usually, when I'm up in the air, I'm either playing Quidditch or acting like an idiot with Fred."

"It's one of my favorite things to do. Sometimes, late at night, when I can't sleep, which is often, I'll come out and fly for a while," she smiled, then looked down. "C'mon, let's go down here. I wanna show you something."

She sat them down gently, making certain George stood steady before she released his hand. "What is this place?" He asked, turning around in slow circles.

"It's the ruins of an old muggle castle," Y/N said. "I don't know anything about it other than it's from the Middle Ages, I think. This turret is all that's left."

George nodded and peaked over the side, taking in the stone rubble that lay in heaps all around it. "It's a good place. Quiet. Away from people."

"That's why I like it. It's a good place to think or just unwind," she said, leading him over to a large wooden chest. "I brought this up here last year." Y/N tapped the huge lock with her wand, and it clicked open. "Here," she lifted the lid and pulled out a thick velvet blanket. "Lay this out. I'll bring the pillows."

~•~

They lay there watching the stars for a long time before George turned on his side and asked the question that had been burning in his mind since he discovered Y/N was a dhampir. "Does anyone else know your secret?"

"Only Dumbledore and McGonagall," she shook her head. "I don't think parents would be too keen on sending their kids to school with a half-vampire. I might go on a blood sucking rampage or something." She rolled her eyes.

George said nothing, but his mind wandered back to last year when the Headmaster hired Lupin to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts and the subsequent fall-out when it came to light that he was a werewolf. "I'm sorry you have to hide who you are," he said.

"It's ok. I've learned to play the part of a nice, normal human quite well," she gave him a sad smile. "But it just gets so fucking exhausting having to put on a show day after day. That's why I like coming here. I can take off the mask for a little while."

The redhead nodded. "And what about vampires?" He asked. "You don't have to hide from them, do you?"

"No," she sighed. "But my family isn't welcome within the sanguine community either. My dad was ostracized when he married my mum. Any vampire who takes a human partner is cast out for blood betrayal."

George rolled his eyes. "Gotta keep that precious bloodline pure. Fucking ridiculous."

"Yeah, it is..." Y/N exhaled a long suffering sigh. "But it's the law of the land. And it isn't changing anytime soon."

"Well, I, for one, don't care that you're a dhampir," George smiled and threw his arm around her shoulders. "And your secret will always be safe with me. I promise won't tell anyone. Not even Fred."

"Thanks, George," she leaned over and kissed his cheek. "You don't know how much of a relief it is to finally have a friend I don't have to hide myself from."

"Hey, what are friends for," he grinned ear to ear, a deep crimson blossoming across his freckled face. "If not to trust them with our deepest darkest secrets."

~•~

@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @xmjthewitchx @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @samberriejams @nighttimemoonlover @jsjcue @wzrd-wheezes @mrsgweasley @hufflepuffie @morally-grey-obsessed @fredweasleyyyyy @anvaaryn @samshifts @asuperconfusedgirl @hmisa11 @superduckmilkshake @mysticsheepsoul @gemofthenight @1lellykins @junerprsh @sierraluvz @wolfkill16 @kaysau2510 @qmylovexoxo @planetkt @costheticbabe

@drama-queen-fromthevault @smallsweetvanillabean @hanne-montana @greenapplegrass @el-de-phi @lizzytrees @scooby-doo1995 @spididerman @yoursarahg @marvelgirlstories @theimpossible-girl-whowaited @ceehance @Havenater1920 @jelloangela @charmedfandomgal @loca4moony @whotfskai @netflix-addict @lunacurlclaw @moonatician @sierraluvzz @min-aaa @now-that-we-dontalk @lillisummers

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x fem!reader #george weasley x you #hp fandom #hp universe

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pixiestein · 1 year ago

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Ok so…does anyone actually understand what C.A. Cupid is supposed to be? the only info i can find is that she’s supposedly some kind of “bone elemental” but i’m pretty sure that’s not really a thing outside of monster high. and what does bone elemental even mean? she’s certainly not a skeleton, but is her “flesh” made out of bone? in the same way an earth elemental might be made of stone? if anyone has any theories please let me know, but here’s my half-baked take:

Her monster species could be inspired by the Spartoi, a race of warriors made from the teeth of a dragon in Greek mythology. I believe they could be considered “bone elementals”, as they are physically made of bone. (but again if anyone has more fitting theories or corrections lmk lmao)

I don’t know too much of them, but their depictions seem to range from regular men to full on skeletons. why not compromise and say they could be something in between? a person with flesh that is made of bone? which seems like what a “bone elemental” would be. it wouldn’t be exactly accurate to the original myths, but monster high has always twisted its folklore and mythology around a little bit. (such as zombies being sentient, vampires able to not drink blood) plus, there’s this little paragraph on Cupid’s wiki page, i can’t speak for where this info comes from or how accurate it is but…

…if it’s true, it honestly sounds a bit like the Spartoi. i mean, created to care for dragons? they easily could’ve been created from the dragons teeth! like imagine the mother dragon gives a couple of her teeth to make into Spartoi to care for her children! that would be kinda cute & would make these mysterious bone elementals a little more grounded in actual mythology/folklore. but that’s just a thought that i have, & i really don’t know enough about greek mythology to say for sure, but it’s fun to theorize cus i always love expanding the world of monster high :3

#plussss her adoptive father Eros is a Greek god so it’s nice to give her an origin that’s in the same mythology :p #just sharin my thoughts lmao cus i think abt monster high way too much #monster high #mh #monster high dolls #monster high gen 1 #mh g1 #ever after high #ca cupid #c.a. cupid #chariclo arganthone cupid #cupid #mh cupid #eah cupid #greek mythology #monster high cupid

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clownkiwi · 9 months ago

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genuinely hate the way heaven and hell is set up in hazbin like. in all honesty. whats the point of using the dantes inferno layers of hell if you are only allowed to use the pride layer. for every sinner. why the fuck would that make sense. like. a serial killer would be in the like. idfk wrath or lust (bloodlust) layer. dantes inferno isnt even fucking canonical to the bible.

the angel designs are flat, their movements feel stilted to me, all the humans in heaven just have a color swapped monster design just like the sinners.

and no fucking shit people think alastar is fucking white, you only find out that he mixed race from somewhere else. i only found out through my friend that the guy is half black because he saw a video or something of her drawing alaster in his human form (this sounds aggressive, but i am not doing that towards you this is in total agreement wirh you)

also i think adam as an angel is stupid as shit from like the standpoint of someone who is interested in the bible in the way greek myth isnt "canonical"/is separate from greek gods

the designs look like theyre still a fucking pain to animate, and i do genuinely like a lot of the designs, i think angel dust is iconic and uh. the bat cat guy looks pretty cool, i think theyre more for like. comic books.

story feels flat and rushed, and very much like i'm watching a childrens show for adults, and i fucking hate adult shows that think putting sex, seears, blood and gore in their product is soooooo fucking mature and cool of them and its just boring and samey and it fucking sucks. if hazbin was nade by someone else i'm sufe the peoduct wouldve been handled so much better and treated the audience like adults

LITERALLY THIS THIS THIS!!!!

for the first part, of the lore. the lore gets so much more fucking confusing and lamer if you watch the spinoff helluva boss. they go into more detail & spend more time in the other layers for each episode, but theyre all so lame and predictable. the lust layer is pink and full of clubs & bars because. romance??? the greed layer is green and pretty much chicago, especially with the demon mobs (demon mobs Should sound more fun). the wrath ring is red/orange and like The Middle Western Desert that literally takes place during the Wild West from USAmerica. LIKE they made dantes inferno LAME!!! wheres the imagination??? was the best you could come up with for greed "chicago" and wrath "the wild west"???? come on

and the way heaven and hell are addressed is so much more confusing. like. the angels have a Moral code Not To Kill, even if theyre demons (in the episode the angel opposite of IMP are focused on, they lose their jobs when they indirectly kill a guy they weren't supposed to kill), which comes into direct conflict with what the angels Were ALREADY DOING IN HAZBIN???

itd be one thing if they were taking place apart from each other in the timeline, and we don't really know that ATM, but they're supposed to take place in the same universe, so they never really seem to make up their minds on what they wanna do with that???

AND LIKE the core concept of hazbin hotel is broken from the very worldbuilding the show is built on. no demon would ever wanna work on redeeming themselves by just going to a hotel, and even in cases when they do, its really just to sabotage each other, before they solve their problems like. my fucking little pony. i cant believe this was a show made for the same target group as bojack horseman or moral orel, it makes me sick

and this idea isnt broken either!!! it can work!!! the good place worked and improved on this idea In Strides and did it with much more maturity and respect for its audience than vivziepop could even do for two of her shows

like hazbin hotel & helluva boss could be improved upon, they just need Better Writers and a Stronger Vision for where the story could go. im not even being a hater Just Because (altho i am), i'm just really upset that this was the direction the show is seemingly going to with no stop. ive seen people that have looked up to vivziepop as inspiration and felt deeply betrayed when the story was shit, when the writing was horrible, its really disappointing to see. i think the only people left watching this are people who think what vivziepop is doing is good, even if she spends more than half her time online looking up her shows to try to fight back against any and all criticism

#ruby answers tag #max i 100% agree with you on all your points #this is something ive been thinking about making a video about forever #how were such horrible pilots so highly praised before the show even came out. howd vivziepop get on tv with hazbin hotel???#i really wanna do a video on this so badly not even in a cringe way but in an interest way... because this is So interesting...!#anyways sorry for the long post. i am angry with you i hate vivziepop 4ever...#flowerkidlove #long post (?)#hazbin hotel cw #helluva boss cw

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phoenixkaptain · 2 years ago

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Thinkin bout Cryptid Luke…

A few ideas I have…

Luke in Legends’ continuity rebuilt the Jedi Order, but in Disney’s continuity, he did not. And while I strongly dislike Disney’s version of Old Luke, I do like the idea in my head of a lone Jedi operating without any Order (which is not what Disney’s Luke is, so I guess there’s nothing really there…)

Like, in the days of the Old Republic, you had to ask the Jedi for help. The Jedi sometimes stumbled on problems, yes, but they mostly responded to cries for help.

Luke doesn’t have that option. Yes, he can respond when a Force Sensitive calls for help with magic rocks, but for the most part, he is just wandering. He is going where the Force guides him. He is just… not there, blink, there.

I like the idea that things go to shit, Luke shows up in his ominous black hood, Luke solves the problem, then Luke vanishes as quickly as he came, with no trace he was ever there.

However, side idea: Luke travels with his motley crew of children. But, THEY are ALSO crypids!

Like, you are a citizen of some planet. You are just standing on a corner, waiting for a space bus, looking at a space newspaper, and you glance up and see an ominously cloaked figure standing on the opposite side of the street. You cannot make out any features. It is dark out, and he is standing beneath a space streetlight, but all the light does is cast his face further into shadow.

Quickly, you look back down, hoping that the ominous shape across the street hasn’t noticed you. You feel a chill run down your spine. You sneak a glance back up, only to find that there is another black-cloaked figure, standing right beside the first. It is half the first’s height, but it’s also cloaked in darkness.

You look down again. You hear a noise, like moving fabric, and look back up, worried the pair is approaching, only to find another small, ominous shape has joined the first two beneath the space streetlight. You can’t bring yourself to look away, and so watch as another black-cloaked figure emerges from behind the tallest one, the first one.

Finally, the shape moves as though inclining its head. You feel your heart begin to race as it slowly turns to face you, and the streetlights finally illuminate a mouth. A mouth that is baring a smile full of sharp teeth, right towards you.

A space bus suddenly drives past, blocking your view for only a second. But, as the bus passes, the four shapes are gone. Vanished without a trace. The streetlight goes out. You decide that you should never smoke death sticks again, despite the fact that you have never smoked a single death stick in your entire life.

(Luke was going to the grocery store with his children. He was just trying to wait for them to catch up, since he got lost in thought trying to figure out how many vegetables to get. He noticed that the person across the street seemed scared, and so tried to smile reassuringly, but there was a noise in a back alley that he and his three students darted over to check out. It’s a cat. The four of them are very pleased.)

Or, I like to think that there’s a rumour that if you say “Skywalker” in an Imperial base, Luke Skywalker will show up and destroy the place. Most of the Stormtroopers and older people are like “psh, yeah right. Jedi can’t hear their name across the galaxy.”

But, slowly but surely, the whispers of Skywalker’s name are dying out. Because he. Keeps. On. Appearing. Right after anyone says his name, even if it’s in a whisper.

(Luke just so happened to be in the area. It was the will of the Force ¯\ _(ツ)_/¯ )

There are so many options for Cryptid Luke! So! Many! Options! This man does not know how to enter a conversation like a normal person, he just appears from the shadows and scares people. Most of the galaxy think he’s just a myth created by the New Republic and the Empire. The leftover Jedi themselves think that he’s just a myth made up by the New Republic and the Empire. Nobody believes he exists aside from the people who have seen him, but even they are half convinced that they made him up.

I just would like Luke to randomly show up, kill some Imperials, scare some other Imperials, adopt another child, then go home. It’s my ideal.

#star wars #luke skywalker #cryptid luke #star wars original trilogy #you know how he is in the mandalorian #not in book of boba fett #i have not seen bobf #but i like ominous hood luke #who shows up and looks cool #then is like #aw sweet a baby i will care for it as though i myself delivered it #and vanishes again #the children show back up sometimes #and explain that jedi ing wasn’t for them #so master skywalker sent them back with his babysitter robot #the inane ramblings of a madman #i want him to be unhinged like his father and obi wan and qui gon and yoda and ahsoka before him

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haveyoureadthispoll · 7 months ago

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An epic achievement and a huge delight, the entire history of popular music over the past fifty years refracted through the big genres that have defined and dominated it: rock, R&B, country, punk, hip-hop, dance, and pop Kelefa Sanneh, one of the essential voices of our time on music and culture, has made a deep study of how popular music unites and divides us, charting the way genres become communities, shape-shifting across the years, giving us a way to track larger forces and controversies. Music is also, of course, a perfectly fine concern in itself, especially in the hands of a writer this brilliant and polyamorous. In Major Labels, Sanneh distills a career's worth of knowledge about music and musicians into a grand reckoning with popular music--as an art form (actually, a bunch of art forms), as a cultural and economic force, and as a tool that we use to build our identities. As Sanneh unspools the stories of the genres that have defined popular music, the connections build, and big themes accrue momentum: the tension between mainstream and outsider, between authenticity and phoniness, between good and bad, right and wrong. Throughout, race is a powerful touchstone: just as there's always been a Black audience and a white audience, with more or less overlap depending on the moment, there is Black music and white music, though it's not always easy to tell them apart. Sanneh debunks cherished myths, reappraises beloved heroes, and upends familiar ideas of musical greatness, arguing that sometimes, the best popular music isn't transcendent. It expresses our grudges as well as our hopes, and it is motivated by greed as well as inspiration; music is a powerful tool for human connection, but also for human antagonism. The book will shock and awe every music nerd, even as it is a heady gateway drug for the uninitiated. The opposite of a modest proposal, Major Labels takes on the whole extraordinary range of popular music over the past half century, and it pays in full.

#book: major labels #author: kelefa sanneh #genre: non fiction #genre: history #genre: music #year: 2020s

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youregonnagofaar · 1 year ago

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happy ending myth; a steve harrington story

chapter 7. eddie at skull rock

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5 chapter 6

pairing: best friend!eddie munson, close friend!max mayfield, slowburn!steve harrington

a/n: this is a day late due to work being busy and my computer is so slow. i am currently editing chapter 8 and then it will be proofread. the next chapter i think is really long so i'm glad this one is shorter. I'm phasing out the usage of y/n.

summary: steve admits you mean something to him. robin talks steve down from anxious thoughts. vecna kills another victim and eddie is framed. you finally meet back up with your best friend at skull rock. the older kids try to find the portal in lovers lake.

warnings: mild violence, curse words, anxiety, panic attack, nightmares, pls let me know if i missed anything

word count: 5,601

taglist: @evansflowers

After starting the laundry, you made your way over to the Harrington kitchen. Just like the house, the kitchen was pretty bare. It was the opposite of the Wheeler house that you had recently become accustomed to. This house felt like it hadn’t been lived in, as if the people came and went, never staying too long. Looking around the kitchen, you were able to find a couple of old Hawkins school water bottles. As you filled up the water bottles, you leaned against the counter wondering what Eddie must be up to. The two of you had never really been separated from each other before. From the moment you two met, the routine was to see each other every day. The sound of the dripping faucet brought your dehydration to all your senses, clouding the thought of your best friend. So, you took a hard swallow realizing that your mouth felt dry and your tongue like sandpaper. With your full attention on quenching your thirst, you hadn’t realized Steve was now in the room. He was watching you with a smile, leaning against the doorframe. Wiping your mouth, you looked up at him with a half smile before handing him the other bottle. “We are super dehydrated, drink up, and I’ll fill them up for the road.”

Steve nodded and took the other gold and green water bottle from your hand, letting his fingers linger on yours. As he got closer you felt your chest tighten from excitement and fear. His eyes watched you closely as you blushed from the lack of space and he couldn’t help but think of how pink made you look as if you were glowing. Despite the both of you being very close earlier, there was far too much panic on Steve’s mind to really take in the comfort of being near you. It was only now that his senses took in the smell of his shampoo in your hair. His heart raced from the excitement as he let his other hand find its way to the side of your face.

You knew then that this boy was extremely dangerous when confident. The way he was looking at you made you feel weak in the knees. No one had ever looked at you like that before, it made you dizzy just being in his presence. As his chest got closer, you bit your lip, but he decided he had made you blush enough for the moment. He turned to glance over at the water bottles and tilted his head. Doing your best to make sure you weren’t ogling him too much as he backed up, you then twirled on the ball of your heels to face the sink. Refilling both the water bottles you did your best to get back composure but it was so easy to steal glances at such a pretty face.

He swore he could watch the way you did things for the rest of his life. The way you put care into each thing you did even if it was such a small task. The way you helped him earlier when he felt too embarrassed to speak yet he ended up telling you everything. After you filled the water bottles up, the two of you made your way to the front of the house. A comfortable silence filled the air, it was good neither of you could feel how the other's heart was picking up pace. It felt so easy to get lost in the idea of all the wonderful things this relationship could bring. The reality of the upside-down still loomed. As you both put on your shoes, anxious and happy thoughts mixed in your minds.

On the car ride back to the Wheeler house, ABBA softly played on the radio. Steve’s free hand rested on the seat between the both of you and it only took a few minutes before you let your pinky link with his. There was something about Steve Harrington that made all your insides twist and you kept welcoming the feeling. For Steve, it felt like this was the most amazing thing that happened to him but he feared that this was as good as it was going to get. Because after this car ride, he wasn’t sure how safe he could keep you. It wasn’t that you needed protection, it was the fact that he didn’t ever want to not be close to you. The last time he did this, he wasn’t sure if he was going to survive. Damage to his eye and nose got worse each time he faced these monsters. The fear of anything happening to you would come to his attention anytime he felt comfortable for longer than 5 minutes.

As usual, the car ride wasn’t as long as the two of you could’ve hoped, he wanted to miss certain turns, just to get you out of this hell hole. But, he knew that you cared for Eddie and Max so much that doing so could make it worse. So instead, he drove the correct way to Nancy’s who he was pretty sure helped Robin make this “meet cute” happen. The two of you were the last ones to get back from freshening up. As Steve shut the car off he cleared his throat hoping that was enough to make you not bolt out of the car. It worked because the noise caused you to look over as he gave you an odd smile. “So, umm, before we go back into battle mode, I wanted to tell you something.”

You turned your body so that you could face him and tilted your head. It felt like warm bubbles were stuck in your stomach traveling slowly up your ribs as you waited for him to say something. “What’s up?” You said doing your best not to sound over-excited. Every second he waited you could feel the bubbles rise in your chest.

His eyes lingered on you, worry laced in his brows before he took a deep breath. “I don’t know what this is yet, but I can tell it's something and this whole world you are now involved in is lethal…” You looked at him with sad eyes so he placed his hand over yours, a smile slowly growing on his face. “I just know…that I need you to know that I haven’t felt this way with anyone. Thank you for listening to me and saving me from that nightmare.”

Your cheeks instantly turned pink as you matched the grin on his face. “You just have to ask, Harrington.” You placed a soft kiss on his cheek, letting yourself linger taking in the way he smelt along with the warm feeling of his skin. Smiling against his cheek, you then pulled away and spoke again. “You look really nice in this color by the way.” Without even letting him respond you got out of the car with a smirk. If he was going to be smooth now, you also had to have some tricks up your sleeve, or at least you hoped you did. All you knew about flirting was from books and luckily Jane Austen was coming in handy... When you looked at him after the door shut he was holding his cheek, a smile spread across your face knowing that you could stun him that way.

Your thought was interrupted by Robin bolting out the door. Turns out she was watching this all happen from the same window as last night. Nancy was excited for Robin to witness it but chose not to stick around because she was too busy making sure the group had everything needed. Nancy did hear an excited squeal come from the living room before the door slammed shut.

“Well hello! Don’t you look nice!” Robin smirked, her voice much squeakier than you had ever heard.

“Thanks, Robin!” You looked at her with confusion, you’d never seen her so excited. Nancy was yelling for all the kids to come upstairs as Steve finally got out of the car waiting for you to go inside before pulling Robin to the side.

Robin let out a tiny yelp as Steve pulled her closer to him. “So how was it?!” The look on her face made him roll his eyes as he covered the smile he had with his hand. “Did you at least flirt?”

His eyes went wide in response, thinking about the way you looked at him with such concern once he finally woke up from that nightmare. “Well, yeah there was flirting but I had one of those nightmares and she had to shake me awake from it.” Robin knew what he was talking about, this was the reason she slept in the guest room most nights. She placed her hand on his shoulder. “She was really great about it, I ended up telling her everything.” As Steve spoke Robin’s eyebrows began to raise.

“That’s a good thing isn’t it?” She was confused. This was all good news and yet Steve looked upset.

“What if this is it? What if I lose her to Vecna? What if she realizes she just liked me cause of the danger we are under?” Steve began to list all the reasons why this could all crash and burn. This was something Robin had gotten used to since the Star Court Mall fire. Steve would get so in his head about everything and it ruined so many chances for better things.

“Steve shut up!” She removed her hand from his shoulder and sighed. “You are never going to know any of that unless you try. It’s up to you if you want to keep trying or not.” She paused and tilted her head at him. “If you already felt comfortable enough to tell her a decent amount of what has happened to you because of all this. Well, then it seems like you better keep it up.” Steve stood there silent letting his best friend's words sink into his system. She was right, just like every other time even though he would never admit that.

While Steve and Robin were having a heart-to-heart, you had been gathering the food and beer for Eddie. Excitement rushed over you every once in a while because you missed your best friend. Dustin made his way to your side taking a few bags of chips out of your hands with a cheeky smile. The boy had been following you since you arrived and the more time you spent with Dustin the more you were able to understand why Eddie had taken him under his wing. He opened the front door for you as you made your way over to Nancy’s car.

“Do you think Eddie is okay?” Dustin asked as he opened up the trunk, the question had crossed your mind several times earlier today.

“He’s a very squirrelly man so, yes, I do think he is okay.” You gave Dustin a smile trying to let him not see the worry that laced your face. Yes, you did think Eddie was okay, but you worried because Jason was brutal.

As if he was able to sense that you felt some type of distress, Steve was now standing behind you. His hand hovering on the small of your back causing you to feel instant comfort. It makes no sense the way he is able to calm your brain just by a look or a touch. This was a type of connection you didn’t have with anyone you’d met before. His eyes met yours and you smiled softly before climbing into the back of Nancy’s car. Dustin watched as Steve and you seemed to communicate telepathically with a smirk before motioning to Steve that he could get in next.

Everyone was settled in the car ready for their journey to find Eddie. Nancy made sure everyone was buckled before finally pulling out and getting on the road. The vibe was much different this time around, even though all of you smelled and felt much better, the difficulty of what to tell Eddie loomed. Robin was ranting while Steve was busy eating chips, which you kept taking from him. For most of the car ride, you had to keep telling him the snacks were for Eddie. But then Robin began to lay it all out on what needed to be said to Eddie and all of you instantly became overcome with sadness.

“...but now you’re doubly, triply screwed!” Robin shouted at the end of her rant.

“Wait. Maybe we don’t put it like that.” Lucas chimed in as he gave a look over to Max. He hadn’t left her side since the graveyard incident. You really admired the love he felt for her.

“We’re one step closer to finding Venca,” Nancy shook her head trying her best to keep Robin and everyone else calm. “That’s what we say. That’s what's important.”

“See, Robin? Positive spin can make all the difference.” Steve said mouth full of chips again because you had become so focused on the conversation around you.

“Uh-huh.” Robin scoffed as your eyes began to focus on the road ahead.

“Oh, shit.” Both Nancy and you said aloud your grip tensing on the head of the seat in front of you. Steve saw you become tense and placed the bag of chips to the side and tried to look around.

Refer Rick's place was surrounded by cop cars, news vans, and a large crowd of people. All of you jumped out of the car quickly after Nancy parked. Your mind was on autopilot as you followed where Nancy led everyone. The Sheriff was explaining what had happened here. Another murder took place in Lover’s Lake and this time it was Patrick Mckinney, one of the boys in Jason’s group. The same group was after Eddie, so of course that was who they were going to blame this on. It made your blood boil as you listened to the cop continue, to describe what had happened to Patrick, his limbs had been ripped apart. How could they even think Eddie would do that to anyone? It wasn’t until they said who the person of interest was that you began to fight back tears. All of your fears were confirmed as you balled up your fists, and the cop spoke the name of your best friend on national television.

“Oh, man…” Dustin said as he began to look back at you with sad eyes.

“This is not good..this is really not good,” Steve spoke as he caught you in his sight. He stood in front of you as you just walked into his chest and you did your best to breathe.

“Dustin, can you hear me?” Suddenly, Eddie's voice came from the walkie-talkie. You turned around quickly to stand near Dustin who had been holding onto the device.

“Eddie. Holy Shit. Are you okay?” Dustin spoke in a whisper as you wiped hot tears that refused to stop falling from your eyes.

“Nah, man. Pretty…pretty goddam far from okay.” Eddie’s voice sounded shaken from whatever he saw and it broke your heart to hear such a tone.

You got closer to Dustin trying your best not to be too loud. “Where is he?”

“Where are you?” Dustin finally asked, giving you a nod.

“Skull Rock. Do you know it?” As Eddie spoke you nodded your head as if he could see. Skull Rock was a hang-out spot for the two of you.

“Uhh yeah. That’s near Cornwallis and…” Dustin was then cut off by Steve.

“Garrett, yeah. I know where that is. He sounded so sure as he began to walk back towards the car. Dustin and you stayed behind to tell Eddie that you all were coming before making your way back to the group.

No one spoke the whole way as Steve took over driving to Skull Rock. Moments replayed in your mind of warm days and nights at Skull Rock with Eddie. He liked it because of its shape and you enjoyed how it had the perfect amount of lighting for reading outside. The two of you would stay there for hours just talking about the world and the things you wanted to do when you grew up. Eddie wanted to be in a rock band that toured the world. You wanted to write children's books and your ultimate goal was to write a romance novel. Those days seemed so far away and it made your whole body feel a sore sort of pain. You kept quiet as the group made their way out of the car and into the woods. Dustin decided he was going to lead the way with his compass despite Steve’s protests. All of you followed the boy aimlessly for about 15 minutes until Steve decided he had enough.

“Dude. I’m telling you, you’re taking us the wrong way.” Steve’s annoyed voice brought you back to reality.

“It’s north. I’m positive. I checked the map.” Dustin began to argue with Steve, this seemed to be their favorite pastime.

“You do realize Skull Rock, it’s a super popular make-out spot?” The smugness in his voice made you almost giggle as you put your full attention on the two bickering.

“Yeah, so?!” Dustin rolled his eyes while looking at Steve.

“Yeah, well it wasn’t popular until I made it popular.” After Steve spoke, you let out a chuckle that he couldn’t hear because he was too far gone. “We’re heading in the wrong direction.” He began to pick up the pace and walk ahead of where Dustin had been standing.

“Where are you going? Steve!” Dustin then shouted which caused Steve to turn back and roll his eyes. It was entertaining watching the two of them behave like siblings.

“Stop whining. Let’s go. Trust me.”

You and Dustin looked at each other before shaking your heads and following Steve as he walked forward with such purpose. Max and Lucas walked together as a pair while Nancy and Robin did the same. As you looked back every once in a while you would notice the conversations each pair was in. It made you smile to see such a rag-tag bunch find solace with each other during all of this.

“Oh boom!” Steve shouted as he began to push bushes and branches out of the way. “Bada bing, bada boom. There she is, Henderson.” Everyone followed and Dustin let out an annoyed sigh. “Skull Rock.” Steve was so confident in proving Dustin wrong that he wouldn’t stop talking. “In your face, man. In your stupid, cocky little face.” You looked at Steve with furrowed brows before turning your attention back to Dustin.

“Doesn’t make sense.” Dustin was looking around with confusion all over his face. Looking up from the compass to the trees, he did his best to pinpoint what went wrong.

“Yeah, yeah. Even with it staring you in the face, you can’t admit it.” Steve shrugged his shoulders. “Can’t admit you’re wrong, you little butthead.”

Before you could even give Steve a little push, the sound of feet landing on the ground gained everyone’s attention. “I concur. You, Dustin Henderson… you are a total butthead.” Eddie’s voice caused you to let out a tiny excited noise. It had been way too long since you’d seen him and it took everything in your power to not tackle him to the ground.

Dustin was first to greet Eddie with a hug and you waited until he was done before running up to him. The two of you hugged each other tightly as tears began to run down your cheeks. Steve watched this display of affection and it made him feel a type of tension that could only be described as jealousy. He doesn’t know the history of you and Eddie. How both of you did try to date once but it didn’t feel right, so ever since then both of you described each other as platonic soulmates. Eddie kept whispering he was okay as he ran his fingers through your hair. All you could do in response was nod and sob a little, all of this was so much and you were terrified at the possibility of losing him or Max. The tears that you had been holding in began to flow.

As you held onto your best friend, happy that he was still alive, there was a curfew being implemented and Jason had rallied a bunch of town folk to go after Eddie. To make matters worse, the Wheelers, Mrs. Henderson, and the other parents were all looking for their kids.

After things calmed down a bit, you and Eddie found a seat on a rock away from the group as he began to rant. He spoke poorly of himself, saying how now all he ever did was run away from things. It broke your heart cause you knew that this wasn’t true and that any sane person would have run away from all of this.

“Do you know what time this was? The attack?” Nancy asked as she began to do her best to figure out if any of this was all connected.

“Yeah, no I…I know exactly what time it was.” Eddie began to twirl the watch on his wrist. His uncle and you bought it for him as a gift. “My walkie wasn’t the only thing that got soaked.” You watched as he took it off his wrist and tossed it to Nancy.

“9:27” Nancy blurted out and all of you began to look around at each other.

“Same time our flashlights went kablooey.” Robin chimed in.

“Which means what, exactly?” Steve blurted out while looking at Nancy with confusion.

“That the surge of energy was Vecna killing Patrick.” Nancy let out a sigh before Robin spoke once more.

“Well, we're one step closer. We know how Vecna attacks.”

Looking at Robin, Lucas finally spoke. “And where he attacks from.”

Max decided to join in the conversation, her brows furrowed as she spoke. “So now we just need to sneak into his lair in the Upside Down and drive a stake through his heart.”

“If he even has a heart.” Robin scoffed.

“A stake? Is he a… like a vamp? Is he a vampire?” Steve’s face went from confusion to fear.

“It was a metaphor,” said Max with as much sass as ever which made you and Eddie smirk at each other.

“A bullet should work on him right?” Eddie said assuming that this would be the best way to get rid of Vecna.

Lucas almost scoffed feeling that wasn’t enough punishment. “I say we chop his head off.”

“Yeah, I’d say all of the above but we can’t do any of that..” Nancy paused. “until we find a way into the Upside Down.”

Sounding defeated, Max let out an annoyed sigh. “We need El to get her powers back.”

“Everything was way easier. We had this girl. She had superpowers. “ Steve said ,looking at both you and Eddie.

“Superpowers. Yeah, you mentioned her.” You replied as Eddie nodded.

“Hey, uh… Henderson’s not, uh cursed, is he?” Eddie was now looking directly at Dustin who had been pacing back and forth the whole conversation.

“Cursed No, no. He’s fine. Mental? Absolutely, but…” You watched Steve closely as he began to say more, but you gave him a look. This was not the time to tell Eddie that you were the cursed one.

“Boom!” Dustin shouted, causing some of you to jump before looking over at the boy with wide eyes. His voice echoed through the trees as he turned around and pointed to Steve. “Bada…bada..boom.” Steve looked at him, his brows furrowed as he stood like an annoyed mother. “I was right. Skull Rock was north.” Steve began to lean back as he rolled his eyes dramatically.

“Seriously? You’re serious?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“This is Skull Rock. Okay?” Steve’s hands began to show off the formation behind him. You patted Eddie’s back before walking over to Steve and placing a hand on his shoulder, but he kept ranting. “You're totally, absolutely, 100% wrong. Right now.”

“Yes!” Dustin said, pointing toward Steve. “And no.” The rest of you were watching this spat with confusion. The two of them already had this talk and it didn’t make sense as to why it was relevant.

“Oh, my god.” Steve placed his hands on his face and you smirked and rubbed his back as he turned to face you. Eddie turned his attention to where you had gone, watching you and Steve in confusion.

“This worked correctly when we left the Wheelers’,” Dustin said full of pride. In response to this, you watched as Steve licked his lips, his hands now on his hips. “Correct when we got in the car on Curly. But it started to slip the further east we went. Now it’s way off. When I was leading us here, I wasn’t wrong. The compass was.”

“So you’re using faulty equipment. You’re still wrong.” Steve said, now facing Dustin.

“Except it isn’t faulty. Lucas, remember what can affect a compass?”

“An electromagnetic field,” Lucas said softly, not really wanting to be involved.

“Yep.” Dustin smiled big because finally, someone was getting it.

Robin was clearly confused so she spoke up. “Sorry. I must’ve skipped that class.”

Dustin took a breath and then began to ramble. “In the presence of a stronger electromagnetic field, the needle will deflect towards that power. So either there’s some super big magnet around here. Or…”

“There’s a gate.” Lucas chimed in.

“But we’re nowhere near the lab,” Nancy questioned.

“But what if, somehow, there’s another gate? A gate that we don’t know about. It’d have to be smaller. Way less powerful.” Dustin explained.

“Snack-size gate,” Robin said as she finally put all the pieces together.

Rubbing his temples Steve did his best to keep his composure. “How? Why?” He questioned doing his best to get how any of this made sense.

“No idea. All I know is that something is causing this disturbance, and the last time we’ve seen anything like it, it was a gate.” Dustin went on. “And I hope it is because we’d have a way to Vecna. And a shot at freeing those two from this curse.” When Dustin spoke the words those two, he was pointing to both you and Max. Eddie instantly took notice of this.

Eddie looked up at you with a mix of anger and sadness in his eyes. Steve watched as you stood there frozen before he noticed Dustin start walking away out of the corner of his eye. “Where are you going? Hey, hey, hey, hey! Eddie’s still a wanted man. We can’t just go hike in the woods.”

“This little steel capsule might be the key to saving our friends,” Dustin smirked full of confidence. “What say you, Eddie, the Banished?”

“I say you’re asking me to follow you into Mordor, which if I’m totally straight with you… I think is a really bad idea. But, uh, the Shire, the Shire is burning.” Eddie spoke as Dustin began to jump up and down as you smiled watching Eddie get up from the ground. “So Mordor it is.” He walked forward to Dustin as Nancy and Robin followed. You stood behind watching Max and Lucas follow suit. Steve just stood there next to you with confusion all over his face.

“What is Mordor?” He looked over at you and you gave him a small smirk.

“We can talk about that later.” After giving him a pat on his back you linked pinkies with him as the two of you began to walk.

Eddie ran back to grab his stuff and his eyes caught the sight of you and Steve. A huge grin grew on his face as he grabbed his things. He was full of questions but it felt like a horrible time to ask them all. It wasn’t until it was dark that Dustin began to speed up before he abruptly stopped ahead of a large bed of water. This caused all of you to run into one another with a look of defeat once you saw.

“You gotta be shitting me.” Steve groaned, before looking at you with sad eyes.

“Yeah, I thought these woods were familiar,” Eddie smirked as he realized where the group had ended up.

“Lover’s Lake,” Robin said as she began to eye around the area.

“This is confusing,” You said as you crouched down to touch the cold water. How could it be that you all ended up here? Also, what did it mean that the compass had brought everyone here? Then it hit you and you quickly turned to Nancy hoping she had more answers. “There’s a gate in Lover’s Lake?”

“Whenever the Demogorgon attacked it always left an opening,” Nancy stated as you got up from your position. “Maybe Vecna’s the same way.”

With his hands placed firmly on his hips, Steve spoke. “Yeah, only one way to find out.”

It didn’t take long for Eddie to find a tarp that covered a decent-sized boat. The older part of the group seemed to eye each other knowing that this mission would not be safe for the younger ones. While dragging the boat closer to the shore, the anxiety of what was about to happen rushed over you. Steve and Eddie did their best to push it into the water, both of them having different techniques as to how to get the job done. Eddie thought it was a good idea to just throw it but Steve was going for a gentle approach. You couldn’t deny it was fun watching the two of them interact. Robin made her way onto the boat using Steve’s face and Eddie’s shoulder to get an easier entrance into the boat. Nancy followed and then it was Eddie’s turn. As Dustin did his best to stay close you turned to face him, one foot in the boat and the other on the shore.

“Hey, hey no this one, we’re gonna do it.” You said sternly, placing your hand out so that Dustin couldn’t get any closer. His face became filled with annoyance as he huffed at you.

“It’s better this way, okay?” Nancy spoke which seemed to just make Dustin more upset. “You guys stay here with Max. Keep an eye out for trouble”

“You keep an eye out!” Dustin yelled before Nancy gave him a look that got him all defensive. “It’s my goodman theory!”

“You heard Nance,” said Robin, her voice filled with confidence.

Dustin wasn’t having it and continued to question everyone. “Who put her in charge?”

“I did.” Robin didn’t miss a beat which caused Nancy to glance over at her with a smile.

“Compass,” Nancy asked, a small smirk on her face as Dustin stood there defeated. With her hand holding out waiting he reluctantly handed it to her before backing away. After he gave her what she needed she made her way back onto the boat before Steve grabbed the backpack they used for supplies and threw it in Dustin's direction. Steve then jumped into the boat and pushed it into the water. As they sailed out into the dark, Robin shouted “Bedtime at nine, kiddos!” A smirk on her face that no one on the shore could see “Miss you already!” Everyone on the boat just smiled at each other.

You couldn’t deny that this group was an odd bunch to see. No one on this boat really had talked to one another before. The only reason Robin knew you was that you helped tutor everyone in the library and even did a few study sessions at her house Nancy hadn’t even looked your way since elementary school. Yet, here all of you were, ready to face something dangerous together all for the sake of those kids on the shore. Eddie and you gave each other a small smile before you took in the breeze along with the smell of the lake. Your best friend was keeping an eye on you but more importantly, how Steve would stare at you in the moonlight. For years, he would watch people ignore everything about you because you were quiet and poor. It wasn’t cool in Hawkins to be poor and it was even worse when Carol was going around calling you Goodwill cause she saw the two of you shopping there once.

The only light source was the moon. Nancy was holding onto the compass watching as everyone hoped to be going in the right direction. After a few minutes of silence, the compass began to act sporadically. “Woah, woah, woah, slow down…slow down guys!” she exclaimed.

Robin stopped rowing as you all watched the compass spinning at a high speed. The kids took notice of the boat stopping. All of you had been staring at the compass spinning around as the crackle of the walkie-talkie erupted the silence with Dustin’s voice. “What’s going on?”

Robin picked up and began to speak. “Uh, Dustin, your compass has gone from wonky to wonky with a capital ahh.” As she spoke the boat began to rock a bit, so you turned to face the disruption. It was Steve who began taking off his shoes and socks in a quick manner.

With furrowed eyebrows, you grab onto Steve’s bicep. “Steve, what are you doing?” Your voice low so as to not interrupt Robin. The way he looked at you made your heart drop into your stomach because you knew what that look meant. It was the kind you give a person before you are about to leave. All of a sudden it felt hard to breathe.

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